


Broken Out (Broken In)

by LittleLynn



Series: Avarice and Innocence [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AgriCorps Obi-Wan, Dominant Qui-Gon Jinn, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mob AU, POV Alternating, Power Dynamics, Sith AU, Sith Qui-Gon Jinn, sugar AU, the sith are more like the mob in this au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 202,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25518136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: Even after six years on Bandomeer, Obi-Wan still harboured dreams of a jedi finding him here, realising a mistake had been made and taking him on as a padawan after all. It was a childish fantasy, but one he struggled to let go of.What he did not expect, was Sith Lord Qui-Gon Jinn to find him instead, with a dangerous offer of his own.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Avarice and Innocence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892146
Comments: 894
Kudos: 1233





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer that this fic is going to involve some kinky shenanigans, I'm not going to tag every single kink that shows up, partly because we'd be drowning in tags, and partly because I don't know what they'll all be yet, but I will always put them in the notes at the start of the chapter so that people can make smart choices for themselves <3
> 
> This isn't going to be a dark fic, but it will have some darker themes, by nature of the Sith!Qui. There is a chance I will need to add an archive warning from violence, but I am not certain yet. Early chapters may involve Qui/others, but they will not last long and any smutty scenes between them will not be particularly detailed.
> 
> Art Bonanza:
> 
> I have been very very very very very spoiled by beautiful wonderful talented amazing artists while working on this fic, i will never have the words to express my gratitude <3
> 
> Cover art created by the wonderful [Grapemartini](https://grapemartini.tumblr.com/)
> 
> The madly talented [Kurtssingh](https://kurtssingh.tumblr.com/) has done a  
> beautiful piece of Avarus, which you can see [here.](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/704322115884548106/755082720807354438/SithAU.jpg)
> 
> The sweet and very very talented and lovely [Q1](https://q1qqq.tumblr.com/post/626963771486765056/inspired-by-littlelynns-amazing-fic-broken-out) drew the boys back to back which you can find [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/745938584300683314/745948677985796137/image0.png) and [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/745938584300683314/745950401706328324/image0.png)
> 
> There is also a beeeaauuuttiful piece of art from ColdishCase that you can find in chapter 14, [a sfw version of here on tumblr ](https://coldishcase.tumblr.com/post/630909832152678400/obi-wan-in-a-pink-babydoll-from-chapter-14-of) and the nsfw version on their [patreon! ](https://www.patreon.com/posts/42305860)
> 
> There is also one by the lovely midnight, which is technically for On Display but it’s Avarus and Obi and porny goodness so I wouldn’t want anyone to miss it, you can see it [here ](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/742023465422553139/753259364898439350/image0.jpg), and find midnight [here ](https://midnightdelirium.tumblr.com/)!
> 
>  ****A/N 05/01/21** ** Any returning readers: this fic used to be very associated with the artist Orientalld, it no longer is. I am sorry for the number of you I encouraged to her patreon, whilst I can prove next to nothing and therefore encourage you to form your own opinions on her character, it would seem that as this fic grew popular she decided to use it and me to drive custom to her patreon. It seems she went to great lengths to convince me that she loved me, to make me feel the same, while really feeling nothing towards me, to help her make a buck from a fic I have not nor have wanted to make a single penny from. 
> 
> She is a very talented artist, and if you wish to keep supporting her I do not begrudge you it for a second - especially as as I have said, I can prove very little of this - but I would ask that you please not support her in creating art for this fic, and thus continuing to make money off of me, who she has treated abysmally.
> 
> Perhaps we should all take a moment to question - because I certainly did not see the issue before it was pointed out to me - whether or not fanart for fanfiction should ever be hidden behind a paywall, when the fic is entirely free, and the ficwriter unable to make a penny from their work.

It was his sixth year anniversary with the Agricorps, and he smiled his way through it, as he had every other day since he got here, though his smile was always a little more disingenuous than usual on this particular day of the year. 

“Kenobi!” Ralas called, his situation was the same as Obi-Wan’s though he was older, had been here longer. The same ship had deposited him on Bandomeer three years before it did Obi-Wan, when he had failed to ensnare a master. “Drinks later?” He asked, jogging up beside him and swinging an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulder. 

“I could be amenable,” Obi-Wan replied, though he didn’t feel like it, he knew wallowing was no way to spend any day. It was not becoming a jedi, not that Obi-Wan was one anymore. 

“That's what I like to hear,” Ralas grinned. “You working on the bean field today?”

“Today, yesterday, probably tomorrow too,” Obi-Wan replied, why _beans_ of all things responded to him best he would never know, he had always been more adept with the unifying force than the living, and though he had tried to keep up with his training, that still had yet to change. 

Keeping up with his training. As if that wasn’t a bad joke. He meditated every morning and evening, did katas with the sunrise, all day when he wasn’t working, he kept his connection to the force strong. He had no lightsaber, but used other things as stand-ins for the weapon, practicing his forms and keeping his skills as sharp as possible without a sparring partner or training droid.

He lived by the code, striving for serenity and order, even though he had failed to become a jedi and didn’t need to anymore. He had even kept his hair cropped short, despite the fact that when he had been a youngling, he had had an overwhelming desire to grow it. _When I’m a knight_ , he had always thought. Foolish, really. 

Ralas and the others used to tease him for his habits, for keeping to the ways of an order he did not belong to, in his first year here they had spent long hours every week trying to convince him to ‘loosen up’, live for himself, build a real life, full of emotion and attachment. They didn’t try often any longer, only perhaps when they were drunk, though the tone of the conversation had changed over the year, gone was the teasing and coaxing, instead it was clear that they thought Obi-Wan a little tragic. 

Obi-Wan struggled to understand any of them, the ones who had also come from the temple, they seemed _glad_ to be free of the order. Sad when they arrived, melancholy as Obi-Wan had been, but it only took them a few months to shake that feeling off, to forsake their upbringing in favour of small pleasures and personal freedoms. Obi-Wan didn’t understand how they believed that being able to party and kiss and fuck could ever be better than becoming a jedi. 

But his situation was a little different to theirs. He had passed the initiate trials, was strong and skilled in the force, enough to become a jedi padawan; but there had been no master that wanted him - on his kinder days he told himself that he had been unlucky, that it wasn’t that he was unwanted, only that hsi timing had been poor. A weak excuse, even to his own ears. He had begged for a chance to prove himself, and been deposited on a transport. 

He still dreamed though, there was a reason why he kept to his meditations and katas, why he still lived by the code and kept his hair short, owned only what little he needed to survive, gave the rest of his pay away. It was because a part of him still believed that one day a jedi master would come to Bandomeer, find some trouble or peril here, and Obi-Wan would be able to save them, that the master would realise that a grave mistake - and unfair oversight - had been made in his case, and would take him under their wing to train him. Even at nineteen, he still managed to convince himself that it would happen. 

A childish fancy, but one that got him through the day, and one which he clung to with more genuine belief than he cared to admit. He knew the force intended him to be a jedi, and he trusted in its will. 

It wasn’t all bad of course, he had friends here, and the work was rewarding, but it didn’t change the fact that his very presence on this planet was a reminder of his failure.

Ralas made a joke about beans that Obi-Wan failed to catch, lost in his own melancholy thoughts as he was, but he laughed dutifully, and worked to release his more negative feelings to the force. Then he resolved to pay more attention to his friend when he was speaking, it was no use being rude, keeping focus on the here and now had always been something that he had struggled with as an initiate. He sometimes wondered if that was the flaw that had stopped a master from taking him on, and if not that, then what?

The afternoon rolled around and soon enough Obi-Wan was being bustled along by his friends - and some people who were not his friends, but worked with him and liked any excuse for a night out - to a nearby bar, frequented mostly by other Agricorps workers. They celebrated Obi-Wan’s sixth year with them as if it really was something to celebrate at all, and Obi-Wan smiled and laughed and went along with it. 

He was teased - as he always was - when he stayed away from all the alcoholic beverages, though the teasing was always careful now, none of them wanting to sully the evening with the rabbit hole that was the fact that Obi-Wan did still live like a jedi, and more to the point, _why_ he did so. 

Some of them gave him gifts, and Obi-Wan suppressed his urge to turn them away, accepting such things was not the jedi way, but it would only seem ungrateful, and possibly trigger a round of pitying looks that he did not wish to receive. 

As he did sometimes, Naswa, one of Obi-Wan’s other friends, a togruta with delicate face markings that had been all but relieved to have failed his initiate trials, tried to draw Obi-Wan into a quiet conversation. Obi-Wan was usually adept at dodging these attempts, because he knew what came next, but the rest of their group was busy doing shots, so he had little excuse from speaking alone with Naswa. 

As he knew would happen, after a little while Naswa - cheeks rosy from drink - started saying sweet things with a hand on Obi-Wan’s knee and an increasingly smooth attempt to catch Obi-Wan’s lips with his own. 

“Must we always do this?” Obi-Wan asked, a little exasperated as he stopped his friend with a firm hand, the togruta grinned at him and leant back. 

“Sorry sorry, it’s those green eyes you can’t blame me for trying. You know, one of these days you’ll say yes. If not to me then at least to _someone._ Can’t be a saint forever,” Naswa said, and Obi-Wan was unreasonably grateful that he hadn’t said jedi. 

“I really don’t think that’s true,” Obi-Wan said, because Naswa made it sound like it was a case of him not finding him attractive, that one day Obi-Wan would find someone he was attracted to and he would be caught. But Obi-Wan _did_ find Naswa attractive, he was a handsome man and he had never denied the fact, and in his weaker moments during his middle teenage years, he had wondered, had wanted, even. But entanglements was something that the jedi simply didn’t do, emotional or physical, so Obi-wan didn’t do it either. 

The evening wound down for Obi-Wan as it started to really wind up for his friends, and they booed and teased in good fun when Obi-Wan begged off to head home early, but as merry as they all were, they let him go without much hassle, especially when he paid for a parting round for them.

When he reached his small, sparse apartment - jedi only had what they needed to live - Obi-Wan had a shower, washing off the general grime of the bar, before settling in for his meditation. He thought on his six years on Bandomeer, thought on what he had achieved; his improvement was limited, due to his lack of a master to show him new things, but he was stronger than he had been on the day he arrived, considerably so, and he allowed himself a moment of pride over that fact, before releasing his emotions back to the force. 

He had eaten before he went out that evening, but allowed himself a cup of his preferred blend of tea before heading to bed, one of the presents from his friends, to celebrate his ‘bandoversay’, as they liked to call it. Sometimes Obi-Wan wished he could be like them, that life could be so simple for him, but the force tugged at him, filled him up and told him he was meant for more. 

The days spun on, as days were wont to do, and Obi-Wan worked the fields and spent time with his friends, meditated and ran katas in the safety of privacy. It was some weeks later, when Obi-Wan felt a disturbance in the force at the Agricorps center. None of his friends felt it, never as in tune with the force as he had been, and their skills had been waning from lack of use for years and years. But it was as clear as the rising sun to Obi-Wan, when he approached the field for the day, that something was happening inside the main building. 

He reached out with his feelings, and felt his heart leap at what he found. A force signature, wrapped up in a person and _strong_ , so very strong that it felt loud in Obi-Wan’s mind. He was so excited, so caught up in the idea that this, today, could be the day he had been waiting for for six years, that he was almost at the door to the building when he realised that what he was feeling was not _light_. 

He faltered, pulled his hand away from the doorknob. The force was strong with whoever was inside that place, but not strong with the light side. A sith, or at the very least, a strong force users that had shrouded themselves in the easy power of the dark side.

He worried for a moment, for the people inside the building, but when he reached out again he felt no malice or violence, not from anyone inside, and nothing felt _wrong_ , per say. So Obi-Wan had no reason to go inside, and stepped away from the door, shoulders slumping as tried to figure out what to do. The force was no help, offering him no guidance or clear path, and so Obi-Wan idled, caught in between wanting to meet this force user, and wanting to return to his work, and stay away from this darkness. 

The decision was taken out of his hands, when the door opened from the inside, and the owner of the Agricorps, Mr Buli Jillara came out, a tall, imposing man beside him who made Oi-Wan’s breath catch. He towered a full head above Jillara, had long dark brown hair pulled away from his temples and streaked with silver, his face was almost unbearably handsome, with a strong nose and well kept beard, and his eyes had the tell tale yellow tint of a sith.

He was broad as well as tall, and it made him seem to devour the space around him with his presence, and he was dressed in a finely made black suit that was tailored to his shape, though Obi-Wan could see no jacket. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tattooed forearms with designs that Obi-Wan dared not look close enough to discover, and his large hands were encased in sleek leather gloves. Over one arm hung a long coat, too hot for the weather on Bandomeer today, and off his belt hung a lightsaber, that Obi-Wan had no doubt glowed with a red blade.

Perhaps what surprised Obi-Wan the most, was that he _knew_ who the man was, and stumbled a step backwards. It was Qui-Gon Jinn, he had left the order when Obi-Wan was a youngling, along with his master, Dooku, and they had both embraced the dark side. The last Obi-Wan had heard of Jinn six years ago, was that he had become a sith, and controlled the mob in the outer rim. 

Obi-Wan felt frozen, Jinn’s eyes had snapped to him as soon as the door had opened, regarding him with a piercing stare that made Obi-Wan feel flayed open and trapped. Mr Jillara scowled and looked ready to reprimand Obi-Wan for being where he shouldn’t - and in the way of what was clearly an important guest, if Mr Jillara’s improved dress was anything to go back - when Jinn spoke instead. 

“Buli, you didn’t tell me you had a padawan here.”

“Ah, just Obi-Wan, a temple reject just like the rest, insists on keeping that haircut though, and living by that stuffy code,” Mr Jillara replied, attempting to wave off Obi-Wan’s presence and steer Jinn away, but the sith remained fixed on him. 

“That can’t be, initiates only fail when they lack strength in the force, and I can feel you _thrumming_ with it,” Jinn’s voice was deep, and pitched low, Obi-Wan forced to suppress a shiver that tried to run through him. 

“I passed the initiate trials, but there was no master to take me,” Obi-Wan said when he had intended only silence, and he wondered for a moment if Qui-Gon had suggested him with the force, or if he hadn’t even needed to do so. Power pouring off of him, something that felt almost magnetic, pulling Obi-Wan in, dragging him inexorably towards this man. 

“How foolish of them, to let one as bright as you slip through their fingers. Had I still been chained to that place, I would have taken you as my own,” Jinn replied, and Obi-Wan found himself swallowing thickly, suddenly irrationally angry at this man for giving into the dark side. 

“Instead you gave into the dark side, allowed yourself to be seduced.”

“Oh, and what would you know of it?” Jinn asked, a heavy brow raised as his eyes studying Obi-Wan with an interest that made him squirm. 

“I know who you are, I remember when you left the order, who you are now, Darth Avarus,” Obi-Wan replied, feeling only for a second that he had found his footing, and losing it quickly again when Qui-Gon fixed him with a smile, somewhere between mocking and amused.

“You misunderstand me, what I meant was; what do you know of seduction? Living as you do, even when you need not, I’ll bet you’re as pure and perfect as the day you were abandoned here.”

“I - ” Obi-Wan tried, but he had no idea how to respond, Jinn cocked his head to the side, his eyes ranking up Obi-Wan in a way that made him feel stripped bare. 

“Leave Buli, I wish to speak with Obi-Wan alone,” Jinn dismissed Jillara, and he shuffled off dutifully, Jinn clearly holding the control here. It was difficult for Obi-Wan to think of a scenario where Jinn wouldn’t be the one in control. Jinn continued only when Jillara was gone. “Tell me, why do you still keep to the code?” Jinn asked, and Obi-Wan was embarrassed for his answer. 

“It is how I was raised,” he hedged, wondering how he would escape this man, sparing a thought for the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure he _wanted_ to. 

“No, there is a different reason why you repress your most basic urges and instincts, even now. You look what, eighteen years old? Five years without the order is plenty of time to rewrite what you learnt.”

“I’m nineteen,” Obi-Wan replied, as if that was the point here at all, but his throat felt dry. 

“My mistake,” Jinn replied. “But if you wish to evade, then I think I shall tell you what I think is the reason you do it? Living that consummate jedi life even after they’d thrown you away, I think you hoped a jedi master might come here one day, realise how strong you are, and break some rules to take you on anyway,” Jinn said, cutting open the reasons Obi-Wan tried to hide easily and without mercy, his voice was mocking and Obi-Wan was unable to summon a denial, he would only see through it. Jinn chuckled again and caught Obi-wan’s chin with his large fingers, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Oh pet, have you not realised yet, the jedi never break their precious rules.”

“Are you done mocking me, yet?” Obi-Wan asked, hands balling into fists by his sides - he needed to meditate more, emotions were catching up with him more and more these days - he pulled his face away when Jinn pressed his thumb against his lower lip, failing to hide his blush. He hoped it would be attributed to embarrassment. 

“Forgive me, in this, the order deserves my mockery far more than you do.” Qui-Gon mused, letting his hand drop. 

“What do you mean?”

“To let you go? It’s criminal. You’re powerful, Obi-Wan, I can practically taste it on you.”

“I don’t wish to be powerful, only to serve as a jedi.”

“Well, I don’t see any jedi around here, do you? Not you, and certainly not me,” Jinn replied.

“Is there a point to this?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling compelled to meet Jinn’s gaze, despite the way it made him feel uneasy inside, for reasons he couldn’t quite define, though he longed to simply attribute it to the dark side of the force.

“I have a proposal for you, one that I think would suit us both nicely.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan replied, knowing he would refuse it, that there was nothing a sith could offer him that wouldn’t be unsavory at best and dangerous at worst; he knew better than to tangle with someone like Jinn. 

“Leave this place with me, and I will train you, as you clearly so desperately desire,” Jinn offered, and Obi-Wan froze for the second time, though his heart jackrabbited in his chest with how much it tempted him. 

“Train me in the dark side, you mean.”

“They are the same, all that matters is what parts of yourself you pull on for that connection; serenity or passion. So in that respect, it would be your choice, not mine,” Jinn answered, his words careful. 

He used the dark side, everything he taught Obi-Wan would be couched in the dark, but he was right; light and dark was more of a choice than anything else, the question was did Obi-Wan believe he was strong enough to resist the siren call of the dark when he was being trained by a teacher who embraced it, who would no doubt want Obi-Wan to do the same.

A thought came to Obi-Wan, that perhaps, if he was strong enough, he could accept the training from Jinn, reach his potential, and when he was stronger, perhaps an opportunity would present itself in the future, to leave Jinn, and be accepted into the temple. He was too far behind where he should be, he knew even if he never wanted to admit it, that no master would ever take him on as he was now. No master but Jinn. 

But he had kept to the code for six years without guidance, without faltering, in the face of many temptations he had stayed strong, in meditation he always found solace, a release for his emotions. A plan began to form in his head, to take the training from Jinn, and use those teachings as a springboard to return to his home. He imagined bringing down Jinn himself, for the order would surely accept him as a jed if he wasi the man who brought down Darth Avarus.

He was about to open his mouth to accept, when he realised he had only heard half of the bargain. 

“What’s in it for you?” Obi-Wan asked, biting at his lip as a slow, indolent smile spread out over Jinn’s face.

“In exchange you would give yourself to me,” Jinn answered, the way he was looking at Obi-Wan left no mistaking his meaning, but still Obi-Wan couldn’t help his squeaked response, painted with disbelief. 

“What?”

“Your body, your time. You would be _mine_ ,” Jinn’s voice was almost a growl and Obi-Wan could feel his heartbeat in his throat, couldn’t believe that he was still somehow considering it. He could be strong, couldn’t he? Could do this to gain the training that he might one day be able to use to help hundreds of people.

“I would be your slave?”

“You would be my companion,” Jinn corrected, though Obi-Wan wasn’t sure the distinction, when making deals with sith. He stepped closer, ran a finger along Obi-Wan’s jaw. “You would be free to end the arrangement and leave whenever you pleased,” Jinn added, and Obi-Wan felt his desire to go with him grow; if he would be free to leave, then there was little risk, wasn’t there. 

Though, the smarter part of his mind knew that the word of a sith meant very little.

“You promise?” He asked anyway, that almost-mocking smile back on Jinn’s handsome face, that made it clear he thought Obi-Wan was naive, that made it even clearer that he _liked_ that. 

“Yes pet, I promise. Though I don’t believe you will want to, after some time. I am an excellent teacher in a great many things,” his voice was low and seductive, his fingers burning a path along Obi-Wan’s skin.

“I need to think about it,” Obi-Wan said, he needed to get away from Jinn and clear hsi head of his influence before he made a rash decision.

“I will only be here until the end of the day, if you haven’t decided by then then I will leave you here, and you can kiss goodbye those dreams you’re clinging to.”

“I’m not clinging to anything,” Obi-Wan lied, and Jinn’s dark chuckle told him that the sith knew, that he was as transparent as he felt, under those eyes.

“Wasting time denying what is obvious favours no one. Meet me at my ship by nineteenth hour, or spend the rest of your life harvesting plants and wasting your potential. I hope to see you there, my padawan.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have done a rough chapter plan and atm it is looking like at least 24 chapters so buckle up buddies <3 Thank you so much for all your gorgeous comments, they help add fuel to my writing fire and keep my typing <3

Obi-Wan had less than an hour to decide. He had had much longer, but his thoughts had just been swirling round and round without deciding much of anything. And now he had less than an hour left to decide. 

Really it was only about fifteen minutes, because he still needed to pack (not that it would take long with his meagre belongings) and actually make it to the spaceport and Jinn’s ship. His entire life felt as though it was coming down to these fifteen minutes, more than anything ever had before, not during the initiate trials, not even when he was waiting patiently for a master to select him. 

He was stuck in a loop, where the more he thought about it, the more he knew he shouldn’t go, but the more he wanted to. 

The fact was that Obi-Wan knew he shouldn’t go, that if he got on the ship with a sith lord, he would likely never come off it, the most likely scenario being that he would end up dead after the sith had made use of him however he wanted. Another likely possibility was that Jinn would seduce him to the dark side - though, here Obi-Wan gave himself some credit, and he knew turning him would not be an easy task. 

It was also possible that Jinn had some nefarious plan that he needed a force user for, the sith themselves did not take on many apprentices, betrayal and mutnity too rife among their kind for any of them to want more running around. As far as Obi-Wan was aware, currently there were only four; Darth Sidious, Darth Maul, Darth Tyrannus, and Jinn, Darth Avarrus. Four more than there should have been in the galaxy, and that was not even counting the innumerable number of unsavory people that worked with the sith, that helped to make their dark reach so much longer than it should have been. 

Finally, Obi-Wan thought, that if the best case scenario was true, and Jinn really did mean what he had said, however unlikely, then Obi-Wan would be signing his body over to the man. He was inexperienced - and quite completely so - in more carnal matters, but he had at least some idea of what went on, the passion and dirtiness of it all - the forbiddenness of it, to a jedi. He would be breaking the rules just to allow it to happen, and the idea of it scared him a little, just to think about. Perhaps he wouldn’t be any good at it, and Jinn would throw him out the nearest airlock. 

But even despite all this, Obi-Wan still paused. Because he knew, in his heart of hearts, that if he didn’t take this opportunity now, then he would never be trained, and he would spend the rest of his life on Bandomeer, tending to bean fields. Even in the unlikely event that a master had arrived, and Obi-Wan had been able to prove himself somehow, they still would have left him there, far too old to be taken on as a padawan now. 

Jinn was his last chance to learn, and, ironically, Obi-Wan’s last chance to be a jedi. The more he thought on it, the more he resolved that to be the man who handed Darth Avarus over to the jedi would earn him a place in the order, they would overlook the transgressions it took to get him there, and he would have what he had always dreamed about. 

Obi-Wan resolved, in the end, that it was time to dispense with the childish fantasy that the jedi would save him from Bandomeer, and work towards a new goal. 

He gathered up his things and left a note for Rallas and the others. It was insufficient, and they deserved more from him, but if he allowed himself to be drawn into a conversation about it - and they would make it a long conversation - then he would risk missing Jinn. So a note was the best he could manage, explaining at the very least, that he had not been kidnapped, and was well, and had left Bandomeer with Jinn. 

He walked briskly to the spaceport, treading quietly and through lesser used streets to increase his chances of avoiding anyone he knew. At the spaceport, it was simple enough for him to reach out with the force and find the ship shrouded in darkness, thrumming with Jinn’s signature. He faltered at the boarding ramp, unsure what the protocol was, especially considering that he was fifteen minutes early, despite his rush and dithering. 

He was grasping the strap of his bag with both hands, trying to release his mounting apprehension to the force, and perhaps that was why he didn’t notice the presence approaching him from behind, until a large hand appeared on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Obi-Wan jumped, and barely an inch behind him, Jinn chuckled that dark laugh of his, his hand moving to cup the side of Obi-Wan’s neck, making him swallow thickly, feeling vulnerable already. 

“I’m glad you came, pet, we’re going to have so much fun together,” Jinn said, swiping his thumb along Obi-Wan’s jawline, before releasing Obi-Wan, and brushing past him to enter the ship. “Keep up,  _ padawan _ ,” he called back, and Obi-Wan scurried to comply. 

The ship was large, easily the largest one in the spaceport, and by a significant margin, but that was hardly surprising, given that Jinn owned the outer rim mob, and therefore had more money than the rest of the outer rim combined. It was lighter inside thanObi-Wan had expected, his imaginings having been of nothing but black and red inside the ship, as befitted a sith lord. But the reality was nothing like Obi-Wan’s imaginings, and instead he found a well lit, sleek, modern ship, filled with a number of stuff and droids going about their chores - and bowing respectfully to Jinn when he walked past - well furnished rooms for both comfort and purpose, and a truly shocking number of plants. 

“You will be staying in here,” Jinn instructed, stopping outside one of the slightly larger doors and punching in a code. The doors opened to reveal a large room that contained in its walls more luxury than Obi-Wan had ever otherwise seen in his life. He forced himself not to gape at it, and focused instead on the fact that this room was clearly not in use as of yet. 

“Am I not staying with you?” He asked, given the details of their arrangement, he had rather expected to have been left in Jinn’s room. Jinn smiled that slow, inscrutable smile at him again, and turned around to leave. 

“When I want you, I’ll send for you,” Jinn said, not bothering to turn around, and Obi-Wan entered his room, the door closing behind him as he understood the dismissal for what it was. 

With the door shut and Jinn’s distracting presence gone from his side, Obi-Wan was able to look more closely at the room, and found that it was somehow even more lavish than he had originally realised. The bed was huge, big enough for at least four fully grown adults - a thought that immediately made Obi-Wan blush bright red. When he laid a hand on it it was soft and spongy, and possibly the most inviting thing he had ever laid a hand on. 

He had meant to lay his small bag on the bed and unpack, but all he could think about all of a sudden was that his bag was dirty in comparison, and ended up placing it on the vanity instead. Curiosity caught him, and he rifled through the draws of the vanity, regretting it immediately and slamming the drawers shut when the third one revealed personal lubricant. 

He turned instead to exploring the rest of the room, including it’s en suite bathroom, which held a tub that would fit more than one adult human another thought that he had to turn away from. There was a screen to watch the holonet from the bed, as well as a small sitting area with a couch and a couple of armchairs, and the entire place was littered with well-tended plants in beautiful pots. Possibly best of all, was the small secluded corner, with a comfortable mat for sitting and a small stone, clearly intended for use in meditation. 

Obi-Wan felt that with the exception of food, which he had yet to find in his rooms, someone could live in here indefinitely, and it made him wonder for a moment if he was going to be locked in this place whenever Jinn had no use for him. But upon inspection, he was able to open the door and move about freely. 

Jinn had said that he would send for Obi-Wan when he wanted him, and Obi-Wan tried and eventually failed not to fixate on what that would mean. What would he want from Obi-Wan? He barely dared to think about it, tried to suppress the childish hope that Jinn would be gentle with him, make an allowance for his virginity; but he knew that was false hope. Jinn was a sith, and Obi-Wan had known what he’d signed up to, when he arrived at the ship. 

He hoped that Jinn wouldn’t find his inexperience off-putting, that Obi-Wan having very little clue what he was supposed to be doing wouldn’t make Jinn decide to withdraw his offer after one night together, leaving Obi-Wan defiled but without what he had decided to trade it for. He would have to try and be good for Jinn, to avoid that outcome, which was difficult through his nervousness, and the fact that he didn’t even know how to touch himself, let alone another.

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, when a protocol droid appeared at his door, and informed him that Jinn had sent for him, barely two hours since he had arrived. It was late, Obi-Wan had hoped to be given some food and left to rest, not brought to Jinn’s bed already, no respite before he offered up his half of the bargain. He wondered for a second if he could risk refusing until his training had started, but Jinn held all the cards here, and he only wanted to postpone it because he was nervous, it was better, surely, to get through it sooner rather than later. 

He was surprised then, when instead of being brought to Jinn’s rooms, he found himself in a large dining area, Jinn sat at the head of the table, his long hair swept up in a ponytail, tattooed forearms still on display, one long leg crossed over the other as he reclined almost lazily in the high-backed dining chair. 

“It is late, you must be hungry padawan, join me,” Jinn said, the droid closing the door behind them with an ominous  _ click _ , and Obi-Wan thought, surely he would not make an advance in here?

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Obi-Wan said carefully, taking the seat beside Jinn that was also set for a meal, a plate covered with a silver cloche in front of him. A droid he hadn’t noticed reached took the cloche from both their plates, revealing and sumptuous dinner that made Obi-Wan’s mouth water and trepidation gather in his chest. 

“It doesn’t bite, pet, you’re the one supposed to do the biting,” Jinn commented before taking a bite of his own food, closing his eyes and savouring the flavour, Obi-Wan momentarily distracted by the movement of his throat. “It’s very good.”

“I don’t require food this elaborate,” Obi-Wan said, fidgeting in his seat and Jin raised an eyebrow at him and fixed him with an assessing gaze. 

“No one  _ requires  _ food like this.”

“Jedi don’t - ” Obi-Wan started before catching himself as Jinn's expression turned mocking again. 

“No jedi don’t, but I promise you, pet, that this kadish fruit was not what turned me to the dark,” Jinn said, holding out the piece of juicy fruit to Obi-Wan’s lips, and he opened and accepted it before he realised what he was doing, a blush rising from his cheeks when he did. “Good boy.” 

He chewed, because he was hardly about to spit his food out like a petulant child. It was rich and full, easily the most delicious thing he had ever eaten, and after one bite he longed for more, but stayed his hands. 

“It’s too rich. More standard fare would be fine,” Obi-Wan tried, even has his stomach growled at the food on his plate, he was relieved Jinn didn’t acknowledge the noise. 

“Eat or do not eat, the choice is yours, but this is the only food you will be offered today, and I intend to work you hard tomorrow, whether you are hungry or not,” Jinn said, shrugging as he continued to eat his own food, sharp silver knife in one hand, slicing through the various delicacies on his plate. 

Obi-Wan’s anxiety ratched up at the idea of how exactly Jinn planned to work him hard, tying knots in his stomach that made it hard to eat anyway; but he had to try, there was no use starving himself, he would only displease Jinn and end up thrown out of the ship. Jinn praised him when he began eating in reserved little bites, and Obi-Wan felt it add to the knot in his stomach, thinking that it was ridiculous to get praised for  _ eating _ . 

“Thank you for my rooms.”

“Oh? Do you like them,” Jinn didn’t ask, though it sounded like a question. 

“They are very luxurious, I was wondering if there was anywhere simpler I might be able to stay?”

“I didn’t know jedi lacked  _ manners _ . It is very rude to reject the place your gracious host has given you to stay.”

“I’m sorry I just - ”

“If you think that some rare foods and a comfortable bed is enough to break your resolve as a jedi, then I dread to think what I might be able to do to you with other temptations. Now, enough of this, pet, you will accept what you are given, and you will say thank you.” 

“Sorry. Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, trying not to shiver at the way Jinn called him pet, he didn’t understand his own reaction.

“Master.”

“Pardon?”

“You will call me master, as befitting both components of our relationship.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan replied, throat dry. Jinn continued to look at him with a steady gaze, and Obi-Wan wet his lips before he corrected himself. “Yes master.”

“You learn fast,” Jinn said, smiling in a way that reminded Obi-Wan of a shark, before he stood from the table. “Finish your meal and get some rest, I expect you to be ready before sixth hour on the chronal.”

He walked away and Obi-Wan blinked, watching him go in long sure strides. He felt wrong-footed, he had expected something  _ else _ to happen this evening, but instead he was left with a plate of delicious food and a knot in his gut as he waited for the next day. He realised only after Jinn was gone that it might have been a test of his commitment, and that he should have offered. He would do better in the morning, when it sounded as though Jinn would take him, he would make sure Jinn thought him worth training. Somehow. Despite the way his inexperience and apprehension plagued him. 

He got very little sleep that night, despite the softness of the bed, and berated himself for it, knowing that it would only make him slower during the day, but no matter what techniques he tried, he couldn’t shift his nervousness enough to fall asleep. Ridiculous, he had mastered meditation to achieve sleep before he left the creche.

He was woken early by a droid knocking on his door and then letting itself in without waiting for an answer. 

“Lord Avarus has asked me to provide you with these things. He said you are to wear only clothes of his selection unless he says otherwise,” the droid said, terse but not quite rude, before leaving the room again after placing a box on the bed beside Obi-Wan. 

He dreaded to think what was inside the box, no doubt something awful and dark that belonged on a sith as if dressing Obi-Wan up that way would make him like Jinn and the others. But it was like Jinn himself had said, some sweet treats and soft sheets couldn’t defeat him, and neither would dark robes. 

He was surprised then, when he opened the box and found soft creams and browns. The robes and tabards of a jedi padawan, Obi-Wan noticed with a lurch in his chest. The fabric was soft but stiff, just like he remembered from the temple, and he almost tripped in his haste to change into one of the ensembles. It had been a long time since he had been able to dress this way, but his body remembered the movements, right down to fastening the obi and belts around his waist. 

Obi-Wan looked at himself in the mirror, and felt something that had been tight around his chest for the last six years loosen a little. He had no idea why Jinn had given him these clothes, knew it was likely a manipulation of some kind, but he was suddenly impossibly grateful to the man. He was still roiling with nerves, but he wondered if perhaps the day would no be so bad. 

Before sixth hour, Obi-Wan got a summons, against he expected to be taken to Jinn’s bedroom, but was instead lead down to a training salle where Jinn was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, clad in another sleek black suit. He eyed Obi-Wan hungrily when he walked into the room, that made Obi-Wan wonder if he was going to be kept in this room long at all. But Jinn was composed when he spoke. 

“Katas. You will start with the most basic and work continuously through all of the ones you remember from your time at the temple. I will assess your...form and introduce you to some new ones. When you have performed them all, you will not pause, you will return to the first and repeat the cycle,” Jin instructed, and Obi-Wan hurried to obey. 

It felt as though Jinn was toying with him, enjoying his apprehension and making him wait for what he knew was inevitable. He wished he would just get it over with, but was also relieved to be allowed to perform the familiar movements of his kata’s instead. He flowed through the movements, repeating them ones he knew over and over as Jinn had instructed until hours had passed and his muscles were burning, Jinn watching him the whole time but saying nothing beyond a murmur of praise that almost made Obi-Wan falter here and there. 

Obi-Wan felt like he was going to drop when Jinn finally halted him, but he was not allowed real rest, as instead Jinn’s large hands were on his body, guiding him through a pair of new katas instead of simply demonstrating them for him. His hands felt so large around Obi-Wan’s waist, nearly able to encircle it, and Obi-Wan felt anxiety well in him again for what would surely come after this training. 

He was barely able to stand, relieved that he had eaten the evening before after all as his stomach was roaring before Jinn allowed him to break for food. When he was done, Jinn had tested his fine force manipulation skills for almost an hour, before he deemed him ready to return to physical training, handing Obi-Wan a sparring sword and ruthlessly disarming him over and over again until Obi-Wan’s arms could barely hold up the sword, but he kept on, picked himself and his sword up from the floor over and over, feeling buoyed every time Jinn praised him. 

By the time it was evening, and Jinn instructed him to wash and change before dinner, Obi-Wan was tight with tension, he had expected Jinn to take him back to his bedroom so many times during the day and he ended up fidgeting with nervous energy despite his fatigue at dinner. Jinn ignored his movements, even though Obi-Wan was sure it couldn’t have escaped his notice. 

He decided that Jinn was testing him, seeing how committed Obi-Wan was to fulfilling his end of their deal, and that Jinn would grow annoyed with him if he waited too long to offer him his dues. 

It was how he ended up knocking at Jinn’s bedroom door after they had finished dinner, unsure of what to do with his hands after he’d knocked. 

“Enter,” Jinn beckoned, and the door opened. 

“Padawan, what a delightful surprise,” Jinn said, deep voice perfectly even. “What can I help you with?”

“Um,” Obi-Wan started intelligently before gathering himself and steeling his resolve. “I’m here to fulfil, ah, my side of the agreement,” Obi-Wan said, voice betraying his nervousness, and he felt his cheeks glow with embarrassment when Jinn laughed lowly at him. 

“Oh pet, you can’t even  _ say _ it can you. Look at you, the perfect little virgin sacrifice,” Jinn teased, walking over to Obi-Wan, towering above him and tipping his chin up. “But no, I find desire far more arousing than obligation, pet. Come to me when you want it, and trust me, you  _ will _ want it.”

Obi-Wan wanted to deny it, but he could find any words, his throat felt clogged by the hand still on his chin, and he couldn’t have spoken if his life depended on it until Jinn released him, and strolled towards his own bed, leaving Obi-Wan drifting in the space he’d left.

“I do have an...assignment for you though, pet.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I want you to go back to your room, and I want you to touch yourself.”

“What!” Obi-Wan squeaked, his cheeks turning from red to crimson at Jinn’s words, Jinn chuckled and stripped off his shirt, readying himself for bed as if Obi-Wan wasn’t even present. Obi-wan’s eyes got distracted by the definition of his chest, the tattoo on his left arm stopped at the elbow, but on the right it continued up to his shoulder and over one of his pectorals. 

“Have you ever even done it before? Is it possible that you’re nineteen and that  _ pure _ still,” Jinn purred and he seemed able to tell, from the way Obi-Wan stammered and couldn’t find words, that he  _ was _ . “You grow more delightful with every little thing I learn about you, pet . Do you even know how to do what I’m asking?”

“Of course I know how,” Obi-Wan retorted, voice sharp with humiliation, Jinn chuckled at him again. 

“My mistake pet, then I am sure you will have no problem doing what I ask, I will know if you disobey me. Off you go then, you have work to do, and you need your rest, I plan to work you just as hard tomorrow,” Jinn said, and Obi-Wan found himself fleeing from the room as Jinn unzipped his pants to climb into his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for Obi-Wan completing his homework! Let me know what you thought! Ily!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im supposed to be on holiday, relaxing, resting, being chill, instead here i am at half past one in the morning as usual

Obi-Wan got himself ready for bed when he returned to his room, feeling jittery even after a spell in the ‘fresher, mind tripping back to what Jinn had told him to do and blushing even though the man wasn’t even _here_. He could ignore the command, but Jinn had said that he would know and it made Obi-Wan feel like he was being watched - and even if he wasn't, he had never been a very good liar. 

So instead he found himself lying in bed tense from his neck all the way down to his toes, lying rigidly with his arms by his sides and feeling ridiculous.

Obi-Wan hadn’t lied, he did know how to do...what Jinn had told him to do. He had been aroused before - though he had always resisted the temptation and had turned to meditation to calm himself - and his friends at the AgriCorps had certainly laughed and joked amongst themselves enough about such things that Obi-Wan understood the theory. It was just that actually doing it made him nervous. 

But really surely this was a _small_ thing, compared to what Jinn could have asked of him, what he had expected Jinn to ask of him. Yet somehow, in the dark of his own room, this felt just as illicit. 

He didn’t want to endanger the arrangement he and Jinn had made together by disobeying, especially not when Jinn had trained him so vigorously and thoroughly in the day, and promised to do so again tomorrow - Jinn was certainly holding up his end of the bargain. Surely Obi-Wan could at least do this for him. 

With that in mind, Obi-Wan hesitantly moved his hand over the top of his pyjama bottoms, immediately feeling foolish at the action, glad he was alone and it was dark, so no one could see the way his cheeks were red. He squeezed himself through his clothing slightly and his cock pulsed with interest, so unused to being touched with this kind of intent, even by his own hand. 

He thought about what Jinn might like him to do and felt himself thickening at the ideas that flooded towards him. He rubbed himself a little, wished that Jinn had given him a little more instruction. Was this enough, or did he need to make himself climax? The sith hadn’t specified, but Obi-Wan knew the answer all the same. 

He knew it would be more effective if he pulled off his pyjama bottoms and touched himself properly, but he was hesitant to do it, for a reason that hadn’t entirely formed in his head; perhaps like this he could both do as Jinn had asked, without technically touching himself at all. He squeezed himself again through the fabric and rolled his hips up into his hand, thinking about Jinn and why he had decided to humiliate him in this way, feeling himself thickening as he thought on it. 

In a rush, the sensation changed from pleasant to almost overwhelmingly good, he was so good at calming himself before he got fully erect, that to be doing it on purpose and giving his cock physical attention left his head swimming in a warm, desperate feeling far faster than Obi-Wan was ready for. He felt his breath catch, cock pulsing and begging for more, but he was still reluctant to wrap his hand fully around himself. 

Without much thought Obi-Wan turned onto his stomach to rut into the bedding, his cheeks flushing, knowing how he must look, doing something to base, he wondered what Jinn would say to him, if he could see him now. Would he be pleased he was doing as he was asked? Or annoyed that Obi-Wan was rutting like an animal, rather than stroking himself properly. 

Obi-Wan whined loudly as his cock thrust against his pyjama pants and the soft mattress, biting into a pillow when he realised he was being loud, unpracticed in muffling his own sounds. Feeling overwhelmed, unsure in his hazy state why he had denied himself this for so long, Obi-Wan groped for one of the many spare pillows and shoved it between his legs, whimpering at the extra space and leverage it gave him to roll his hips into. 

He was uncoordinated, entirely without rhythm, driven by a desire he had never felt in his life. His movements had twisted up his pyjamas and the head of his cock was peeking above the waistband, wet and pushing into the pillow, the extra friction against the sensitive slit making Obi-Wan moan, his hips jerk. He didn’t understand why, but his mind flashed to Jinn’s big hands, the way they’d felt around his waist, and the tattoos running up his arm, over his chest, and he couldn’t help but stuff his hand into his bottoms and wrap his fingers around his cock and stroke. 

With a broken off shout, caught by surprise by the new sensation, Obi-Wan felt his body spasm, hips stuttering against the pillow as he tensed and then white hot pleasure raced up his spine as he came all over the pillow, soaking it in white ropes. 

He gasped as he came down, thrusting without thought for another minute as his body shook and shivered with a thousand little aftershocks, but when he came down from the high and his cock started to go soft again, he found himself curling with embarrassment. He shuffled away from the pillow on his knees and clicked on the light, worrying his lip as he hastily tucked his cock back inside his clothes, regretting it immediately as it smeared his sticky come on his otherwise clean pyjamas. 

He had no idea how he was going to hide this from Jinn, as far as he had seen the protocol droids took care of cleaning the rooms, and Obi-Wan had no doubt they would report his shame to their master. Obi-Wan grabbed the pillow and pulled the soiled covering off of it, stuffing the pillow far back in one of the many deep cupboards before rushing to the ‘fresher. 

First he stripped off his clothes and stuffed the now messy bottoms into the sink, along with the pillow case and scrubbed at them until he was satisfied they were clean, before laying them out to dry on the heaters in the room. Then Obi-Wan hopped into the ‘fresher himself and ran the water cold, replacing those pleasurable shivers from earlier with ones from the cold. 

It was all Jinn’s fault, not only had he ordered him to do it, but Obi-Wan had been thinking about the man at the time, for all he knew the damn sith had subtly suggested something like this to him, because he couldn’t imaging ever coming up with it on his own. He knew he wasn’t a weak minded individual, and no one had ever been able to suggest him before, but the sith didn’t play by the same rules. 

Satisfied with his reasoning, but still feeling uneasy, Obi-Wan dried himself and waited on shifty feet for his pillow case and pyjama bottoms to dry, before slipping his clothes back on and shoving the pillowcase into the depths of the wardrobe along with the pillow itself. 

He surprised himself by falling asleep without much more fuss, despite his shame, his body was well worked throughout the day from training, and he felt more relaxed than he had since his time at the temple for it. Really, he was embarrassed, but it was a small price to pay for Jinn training him like he was. 

Obi-Wan attempted to remain composed when he met with his master for breakfast and training the next morning, but the look Jinn set him over his morning cup of coffee had heat rising in Obi-Wan’s cheeks before he had even sat himself down at the table. 

“Tell me pet, did you enjoy your assignment?” Jinn asked over the rim of his cup, blowing gently on the rising steam. He laughed when Obi-Wan’s blush deepened. “Shall I take that as a yes?”

“Could you pass the juice please,” Obi-Wan said, hating how tight his voice was, the fact that he couldn’t meet Jinn’s eyes when he had imagined himself fixing him with a defiant glare just minutes earlier on the walk here. Jinn passed the judice as asked, but caught Obi-Wan’s wrist easily in his hand when he leant closer to take it. 

“I wonder, did you strip yourself bare, or just press your hand inside your underwear like a naugty child?” Jinn asked, and Obi-Wan felt shame burning at his cheeks, even more so when Jinn laughed at him again - he hoped he would get used to that soon. “Something else perhaps, will you tell me?” Jinn asked, and Obi-Wan shook his head quickly. 

“A shame, I’m sure I would have enjoyed hearing about it. But you were good, for completing your task,” Jinn murmured, finally releasing Obi-Wan’s wrist and allowing him to get on with his breakfast, as much as he could with the way the skin on his wrist wouldn’t stop tingling. 

He got halfway through his second slice of toast in what should have been blissful silence, but had only served to make him fidget, before he couldn’t hold the question back anymore. 

“Did you suggest me, with the force?” He asked, knowing as soon as it left his lips that he was being ridiculous. Jinn didn’t laugh at him, but he did smirk, and ran his index finger along Obi-Wan’s jawline. 

“Why? Did you enjoy yourself a little too much? And no pet, you know I didn’t. I bet your little cock was just desperate to be touched, after so much neglect,” Jinn replied, letting his finger drop from the line of buzzing electricity he was drawing along Obi-Wan’s skin. 

Obi-Wan turned all his attention back to his - extremely delicious - food, and was relieved when Jinn let the earlier silence return. 

Jinn sent him to meditate for an hour after they ate and Obi-Wan was glad of it, still jittery with excess energy that made no sense, but his mind was unable to completely settle even after an hour of solitiute, his thoughts insisting on brining Jinn to the surface, refusing to them him be cleared from them entirely, even for only a few moments. Perhaps he had lost more skill than he had realised since being sent to Bandomeer, and needed Jinn to help guide him through some meditations as well, though he was embarrassed to ask for tutoring so basic from the sith. 

Jinn trained him just as hard as the day before - if not harder - and Obi-Wan still sore muscles from then screamed at him as they were put through the same gruelling routine of katas - longer now, with the ones Jinn had taught him the day before. The sith praised him when he replicated them correctly, his large hands only correcting the most minor problems with his form; a firm hand on his lower back, or helping him to get the right bend in his knee, or a hand on his chin, adjusting his posture. 

After he had run the sequence, Jinn again showed him two new katas, harder than the ones that came before, one involving a staggered headstand, but Jinn’s hands steadied him as he attempted it for the first time. 

“I noticed,” Jinn started as Obi-Wan found his balance, a large hand spanning his stomach and back as he was steadied, slowly letting go. “While you were meditating, that a pillow from your room appears to be missing.”

Obi-Wan felt himself flush in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that he was standing on his head, and almost immediately unbalanced and fell to the side, Jinn not catching him, allowing him to crash down onto the mat in a sprawl of limbs. Jinn loomed over him, making Obi-Wan feel small - though natably not _scared_ \- in a way that formed another knot in his gut. 

“Were you a little naughty when completing your assignment?” Jinn teased, crouching beside Obi-Wan, eyes scanning the length of his body but not touching. 

“N-no!” Obi-Wan protested, he wanted to get up, to step away from the space that Jinn was invading, but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. 

“Tsk, pet, jedi aren’t supposed to lie,” Jinn replied, before returning to standing, and sending Obi-Wan off to receive lunch in the dining hall. 

Despite the protest of his muscles, Obi-Wan was surprised to find himself with what felt like more energy than the day before, as Jinn stepped away from him. 

Jinn joined him shortly after Obi-Wan had sat down, getting n say again in what he was fed, the rich flavours and textures spoiling Obi-Wan’s taste buds already, making him sure that even after such a short amount of time, he would find returning to the bland food from his past difficult, to say the least. When Jinn sat, he placed a small silver box beside him, and Obi-Wan was proud of himself, for resisting the urge to ask what was inside. 

His curiosity was answered anyway, when after finishing his food, Jinn opened it, to reveal some sort of bite-sized sweet treats, all covered in powdered sugar, smelling sweet and citrusy. 

“Try one,” Jinn said, Obi-Wan was nearly salivating just from the smell, but he tried to refuse anyway, shaking his head and opening his mouth to speak, but he was unable to get a word out, as Jinn took his open mouth as invitation, and popped one of the treats inside. 

Obi-Wan squawked at the indignity of it as Jin’’s finger dragged over his lip, but then the flavour exploded into his mouth and any protests Obi-Wan had intended to have died in his throat, replaced instead by a surprised moan, prompting him to bite into the sweet. It was soft and jelly-like, clearly made from some kind of luxury fruit, and so sweet that it was just two steps away from being sickly. The powdered sugar stopped the texture from being unpleasant and Obi-Wan chewed on it happily, only aware of Jinn again when he looked up, finding that he wanted more. Jinn smiled that slow smile at him again. 

“You see pet, you should try things before you pass judgement,” Jinn said, offering another bite to Obi-Wan from between his fingers, and obi-wan swooped in with his lips and took it from his fingers before he realised that he could have just taken it with his hand. He blushed again, half wondered how there was any blood available in his body to go anywhere else, he blushed so often when in the sith’s presence. 

But then Jinn praised him, and Obi-Wan found himself accepting two more bites from his fingers before the gravity of what he was going really sunk in, and he refused any more. Jinn closed the tin and left it beside Obi-Wan, told him to keep it, in case he fancied something sweet in the evenings. 

After a little grace was given to him to allow his food to settle, Obi-Wan met Jinn back in the sparring salle, wondering nervously if he should have showered during his downtime. He had failed to see the point when he was only going to work up another sweat this afternoon, but now seeing Jinn in his flattering sparring kit and smelling that clean musky scent of his, he worried it might have been polite. 

“Padawan, come here,” Jinn beckoned him over, spinning Obi-Wan when he was withing reach to face a table, his big hands remaining on Obi-Wan’s shoulders. His head barely came up to Jinn’s chin, viscerally aware of how big Jinn felt behind him, towering over him and trapping him between his body and the table. Obi-Wan noticed, when he forced his mind to settle, that there was a beautiful, small wood box on the table, covered in intricate carvings not dissimilar to the swirling design on Jinn’s tattoos. “I have a gift for you.”

“You are already too generous,” Obi-Wan protested, keeping his hands by his sides as they itched to reach out and find out what was in the box, even though he knew it was likely something nefarious, or at least embarrassing. 

“Oh, you will want this one though, pet.” He could feel Jinn’s breath on his ear as he spoke, voice quiet and low in a way that made Obi-Wan want to lean in, even though he could hear him perfectly well. “Go ahead, open it.”

Seeing no use in denying either himself or the sith, Obi-Wan picked up the box with wary hands. He brought it closer to better inspect the markings, the way he also wished to do with Jinn’s arms, just to get a clearer picture of the man in his mind. There were vines carved into the wood, and a great wave around the sides, as if the force of an entire sea was crashing against it, a swirling tempest. On the lid were constellations, ones that felt faintly familiar to Obi-Wan, but that he would need longer to study and perhaps access to a star chart to place in his mind; he wondered if they had any meaning to Jinn, or if it was simply a pretty box he had purchased.

The clasp was a metal Obi-Wan couldn’t identify, but it was a cold grey colour, not silver, yet not dull, and shaped to look like an extension of the vines that crawled around the box, battling with the sea. He unlatched it carefully and tipped open the lid, revealing a beautiful sleek lightsabre tucked inside, cushioned by black velvet on all sides. 

It was silver with a black grip, one that Obi-Wan might have picked himself, were it not for the continuation of the water and vines, carved faintly into the metal. He gasped at the beauty of it, at the overwhelming feeling of having something that he never believed he would have given to him so easily, or perhaps the feeling of something long lost returned to him. 

Jinn squeezed his shoulders, encouraging as Obi-Wan lifted it from it’s resting place and returned the box to the table so that he could inspect it with two hands. It was perfect, except for the fact that he knew it would glow with a red blade, it was everything Obi-Wan had wanted. More so, as the jedi would have never allowed such beautiful carvings on the hilt of a sabre, but Obi-Wan found that he liked them. 

“Light it,” Jinn pushed, and Obi-Wan held it firmly in his hand and did as he was told. His eyes went wide as a blue light lit up in front of him, Jinn surprising him with his choices again. “Do you like it?” Jinn asked, one of his hands had migrated from Obi-Wan’s shoulder and his thumb was instead stroking at the base of Obi-Wan’s neck, able to feel the way Obi-Wan’s pulse hammered.

“It’s beautiful, Jinn - ” a hand tighten on him. “M-master, sorry. It is so perfect, thank you. How did you get it so fast?”

“I am an important person,” Jinn replied with a shark-like smile, and Obi-Wan was reminded that Jinn was a sith, and one that ran the outer rim mob; he could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Jinn released him from his grip and Obi-Wan felt colder, but also like he could breathe again as he stepped away, unclipping his own saber from his belt. “Come pet, let us spar properly. 

Jinn drilled him through his saber forms, focusing on teaching him new ones, pushing Obi-Wan on even as his arms began to wilt from the day’s exertions, but rising to Jinn’s challenge every time he ordered him to get his arms back up. 

Their sabers alit on a lower intensity to avoid true injury, although by the end of their session, Obi-Wan still found himself dripping with sweat and blushing furiously as Jinn insisted on applying some bacta gel to a small burn on his hip, thumb rubbing in slow circles as he soothed the wound with the cool gel, Obi-Wan’s cheeks flaming for no good reason at the medical touch. Luckily he was so reed from the exercise that it was hardly noticeable.

He thought he was free for the day, but Jinn looked him up and down and decided differently. 

“A hundred laps of this room, and then we will have dinner,” Jinn instructed, and Obi-Wan felt himself blanche. “Now now pet, don’t pout, the room is not all that large.” He chided Obi-wan for his expression before smiling at Obi-Wan one last time and exiting the room, leaving him to his torture. 

Obi-Wan did all of the one hundred laps, never cut a corner or used the force to assist him, crashing to his knees and heaving, feeling faintly like he was going to be sick when he was done, body quivering. The AgriCrops had been laborious work, but nothing like what his body was being subjected to now, and he had to gulp down water, before he felt steady enough to walk back to his room. 

When he reached it, he quickly ate some more of the sweets Jinn had given him, relieved when they stopped his muscles from shaking without his permission, desperate for some energy and the sugar doing the trick - or at least, doing enough to see him through until dinner. Thoroughly disgusted with the way he felt, fresh and old sweat coating his skin, Obi-Wan stood in the ‘fresher on shaky legs, letting the wall take most of his weight as the warm water beat down on him. 

He was ravenous when he stepped out, and quickly redressed before going to look for Jinn, intending to thank the man for how seriously he seemed to be taking Obi-Wan’s training, helping him to catch up to where he should have been as quickly as possible. He searched for Jinn, knowing it was unlikely the staff would serve him without the sith alongside him. He wasn’t in his room or the dining hall, nor any of the more serious operations rooms on the ship - not that Obi-Wan was allowed inside those. 

It wasn’t until he returned to the salle that he found him, Obi-Wan not knowing what he was walking in on until it was too late, the doors of the ship cutting out too much sound, so that Obi-Wan didn’t hear the desperate moans and dirty sound of skin slapping against skin until he could see it also. 

Jinn’s back was to him, he had no shirt on, and while his neat trousers remained on his hips, they were clearly open at the front. A young man clung to him, nails clawing into Jinn’s broad shoulders, leaving red marks in their wake, his head was thrown back revealing a beautiful face contorted in pleasure, long black hair falling everywhere. Obi-Wan’s eyes were wide, Jinn holding the younger man up against the far wall of the salle, shoving him against the wall with every hard snap of his hips. 

Obi-Wan gasped and scampered away, on as light feet as he could manage, not wanting to be heard, not stopping his run until he reached the dining hall. He slipped into a chair and ignored his growling stomach, waiting patiently - as his master had no doubt _expected_ him to do - for Jinn to join him, trying and failing to rid his mind of the image of Jinn’s hips thrusting into the man clinging to him, letting out wild moans each time Jinn had fucked into him, the way the muscles of Jinn’s back had rolled with every movement. 

If Jinn had noticed Obi-Wan stumbling into the salle, he didn’t mention it when he finally appeared for dinner, almost half an hour later. He didn’t look debauched, not a single hair was out of place on his head, gathered in the long ponytail it had been all day, clothes uncreased. Obi-Wan searched him for signs of what he had been doing, as if it should be obvious on anyone, but found nothing. 

Jinn offered him more gifts throughout the dinner, mostly in the form of food that assaulted Obi-Wan’s mouth with it’s intoxicating flavours, but also he gave Obi-Wan datapads filled with novels - at first he had thought it pertinent information about the galaxy, and felt warm when he realised it was just stories, for the short moments when he was not busy being trained. He accepted them all easily, which pleased Jinn; Obi-Wan desperately wanting to be distracted from the thoughts in his head, but finding it hard with Jinn beside him, offering him fruit and sweets. 

He wondered if Jinn would be able to hold him as easily as that other man, and stamped out the thought ruthlessly, it was a pointless thought, the answer didn’t matter and he shouldn’t be thinking of it in the first place. A stray thought, that was all, the sort of thing any curious mind would conjure after seeing such a display of vulgarity, right out in the open. Really, did the sith have no shame?

He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or worried when he was back at his quarters, altogether easier and harder not to let his mind fixate on what he had seen when the man was no longer present. He wondered who the other man had been that would debase himself like that, mentally berating the other person for allowing such a thing in a public salle, when there was a knock on his door. 

He was almost there to answer it, when Jinn let himself in, and Obi-Wan felt himself freeze and turn red when he saw the pillow between Jinn’s hands. 

“Ah pet, before you went to sleep I wanted to replace the pillow you seem to have lost,” Jinn said, brushing past Obi-Wan like he was barely there and filling the obvious hole in Obi-Wan’s made bed with the new pillow. “Sleep well,” he purred as he stopped by Obi-Wan’s still-frozen body, running a ringer around the shell of Obi-Wan’s ear and making him shiver, before seeing himself back out again. 

Obi-Wan forced himself to remain composed as he went through his nightly ritual, mostly the same despite the new place, all while stoically not thinking about anything that had happened that day beyond the pleasant burn in his muscles. 

Obi-Wan climbed into the too big bed and sunk into its softness, and it wasn’t until he rolled over and pressed his face unintentionally into the new pillow that he realised it was not fresh from the wash, it was fresh from Jinn’s bed, had to be, with the way it was saturated in the sith’s clean, natural scent, that Obi-Wan only realised as he buried his face in it. 

He should have reeled back immediately, almost did, but his body was exhausted and the smell was nice, good even, as it wrapped around Obi-Wan like a second blanket and he tried to ignore the way his cock twitched and tried to thicken in response, in desperate favour of sleep and sanity, even as his hips rolled in tired, tiny little circles against the mattress. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you're still enjoying it, we'll be taking a wee jaunt over to Qui's pov for the next chapter! <3 your comments continue to spur me on and fuel me into writing faster <3333


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> involves non-graphic descriptions of Qui-Gon fucking someone other than Obi-Wan

Standing in the training room, Qui-Gon watched as his new padawan rolled beautifully from one kata into the next. His form was perfect, despite his long absence from the temple, from any kind of real training, drilling himself over and over for years and miraculously perfecting what he knew, rather than learning back habits that needed to be unpicked. 

Qui-Gon stepped forward when he was moving through his fifth kata, his body was perfect, every muscle exactly where it was supposed to be, but this element of his training was the perfect excuse to put his hands on his padawan, under the guise of incrementally improving his stance. 

He always tensed when Qui-Gon touched him, jumped a little, but then relaxed easily into his hands, letting his master guide him so dutifully. His padawan’s brow was covered with sweat, the jedi robes he’d provided him with - because the very idea of having a pure, innocent little jedi padawan scurrying around his ship had been too much for him to resist - and Qui-Gon wondered if he could get Obi-Wan to strip away his shirts, in the name of practicality. 

No today, perhaps, he seemed wound up this morning, even by his own rigid standards. And Qui-Gon smiled to himself, wondering how his padawan had found his gift from the night before. Tomorrow he would have the temperature in the ship increased by a degree or two, and encourage Obi-Wan to strip down; he would lead by example, as all good teachers did.

He worked Obi-Wan into the ground, or at least, where he assumed the ground would be, but his apprentice surprised him every time by rising again, dragging himself up from the floor on shaking muscles to do as he was asked, demands Qui-Gon knew were unreasonable; and then he thanked him, for the rigorous training. 

He had thought, when he first designed such an absurd training programme, that it would turn Obi-Wan away from his childish desires to be a jedi - it angered Qui-Gon, that even after been cast aside, Obi-Wan still venerated them so, and he wanted to change it, to make Obi-Wan see that the life of a jedi was nothing, it was empty of everything but work and duty. Empty of love and pleasure, of enjoyment. 

But each time he thought Obi-Wan would finally beg for mercy from the regime, he rose to the newest challenge, strived to do exactly as Qui-Gon had asked, succeeded, most often, and never failed the same task twice. Instead of an opening to show Obi-Wan that it was better to be a sweet kept thing than a tool for an order that placed no value in him, he found instead a padawan so desperate to achieve, to finally prove that he was _worthy_ , that Qui-Gon knew he would collapse before he yielded. 

He was curious to find out what would happen when Obi-Wan did collapse. 

In the salle in the afternoon, Obi-Wan’s eyes caught on a section of wall, unremarkable in every way, except for the way Qui-Gon had fucked Xanatos against it the day before. It had been foolish, Xanatos wanted a place in his bed more than a place in his organisation, but the latter was all that he would truly ever have, and that made him jealous and petty. But Xanatos was weaker than him, too weak to have been kept as an apprentice to a sith, relegated to a lesser role and still sore from it; he would never truly be a threat to Qui-Gon, and they both knew it.

But Xanatos was easy for him, spread his legs so willingly that Qui-Gon always knew he would be met with a yes, and he had needed someone convenient, to engineer such a scene. Xanatos would be furious, if he knew how Qui-Gon had used him only to plant an image in his new padawan’s eyes, but he had stopped paying any mind to Xan and his rages years ago. 

He had heard Obi-Wan stumble into the room, had fucked Xanatos harder for those few brief seconds, and come a short while later, knowing his padawan would be unable to avoid thinking about what he had seen, hoping that it pushed the image into his head of Qui-Gon doing the same to him. He wanted Obi-Wan, couldn’t remember the last time he had hungered for something so fully. But he was patient, no matter what the old temple masters used to say about him, he could wait. 

Days passed and Qui-Gon knew that his sweet padawan was touching himself most nights, Obi-Wan was easy to read, could never meet Qui-Gon’s eyes at breakfast when he had, he teased him about it, revelling in how easy it was to get him to flush a dark red, how despite his embarrassment, Obi-Wan didn’t stop chasing his own pleasure in the safety of the night. 

“Pet,” Qui-Gon said one morning, when Obi-Wan was halfway through a bite of pava fruit. He startled, a little rivlet of juice spilling past his lip, which Qui-Gon caught on his thumb, wiped away and sucked into his own mouth as Obi-Wan desperately tracked the movement. “It had been almost a tenday.”

“Yes?” Obi-Wan replied, nervousness tinging his words - he was always nervous when Qui-Gon spoke at breakfast, what he had been doing the night before always fresh in his mind. 

“You seem tense this morning, will you tell me why?” Qui-Gon asked, he longed for the day when Obi-Wan would tell him in detail about how he touched himself, for the day he let Qui-Gon _watch_ , but he knew they were a ways off from that yet, Obi-Wan still more of a closed up bud than a blooming rose. “Did you not sleep well?”

“I slept fine,” obi-Wan replied, voice to tight with politeness that Qui-Gon knew he was lying. 

“How are you supposed to train properly, if you are tired. Do I not deserve you at your best?” Qui-Gon replied, ignoring his padawan’s denial, manipulating his desperate desire to please, doing nothing but raising an eyebrow when Obi-Wan’s look turned desperate. 

“I’m sorry master, I am tired but I will still do well in my training I promise.”

“Why did you not sleep well, padawan?” Qui-gon pressed, watching as Obi-Wan made his lip rosy red and wet from biting it. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, loving the way Obi-Wan’s eyes repeatedly caught on his forearms when he did. 

“I- I was distracted.”

“There cannot be all that much distracting about a dark, quiet room,” Qui-Gon replied, enjoying the way Obi-Wan squirmed. 

“I was distracted by my own thoughts. I know I should be able to dispel them with meditation and find sleep easily but it has been...difficult of late. I’m sorry master, I don’t mean to be a disappointment,” Obi-Wan said quickly, looking worried. 

“You could only disappoint me by lying, pet. Now tell me, what thoughts have been so distracting to you?” Qui-Gon asked, as if he couldn’t guess perfectly well. Obi-Wan chewed at his lip again until it was so plump he had to restrain himself from licking it. Instead he offered Obi-Wan a bite of fruit from his fingers, and, distracted as he was, his padawan leant forward and took it with his lips. He blushed when he realised what he had done, always did, Qui-Gon hoped he never stopped, and chewing quickly. “Tell me.”

“Dirty things,” Obi-Wan eventually managed to squeak, and Qui-Gon knew such a tame omission shouldn’t excite him as much as it did, but a thrill of arousal ran through him all the same, though he was careful to conceal it entirely. 

“Now that could mean so many things, dishes in the sink, perhaps?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied, that streak of petulance that Qui-Gon enjoyed so much rearing its head in his tone. He knew, in these moments, that Qui-Gon was toying with him, teasing him, and it was very telling that he allowed it at all. 

“Oh, what then?” Qui-Gon pressed, giving no leeway when Obi-Wan fixed him with a half-annoyed, half-pleading look, but as usual, his desire to please Qui-Gon - his desire not to be thrown away again, won out over his embarrassment. 

“I think about what you asked me to do when I first got here. And about what I s- about other things too.” 

“I’m hardly surprised pet, you starved that little cock of yours of attention for so long.”

“Master please - ”

“It makes you feel good, doesn’t it? You know, it is far more rewarding with a partner, the feel of someone else's' hand on you, unless - unless of course, you are still humping against the bedding, rather than putting a hand to your cock?” Qui-Gon asked, though he was fairly sure he knew the answer, the image of his innocent little padawan desperate and humping against a pillow in his desperation nearly enough to drive him to madness. Obi-Wan’s face betrayed the truth of it, lower lip wobbling as if he might cry from the humiliation, but Qui-Gon didn’t mistake the way Obi-Wan’s pupils dilated, giving away that on some level, his pet _liked_ it. 

“I’m sorry I -”

“What are you sorry for? Oh pet, you don’t even know do you, I’ll make it easier for you. I want you to keep touching yourself, whenever you like, stop denying yourself, you can do that for me, can’t you?” Qui-Gon purred, voice low so that Obi-Wan leaned closer to him on instinct, continued only when Obi-Wan gave him a nervous nod. “Good boy, and I want you to do it however feels best for you, so, sweet padawan, if that means rubbing your little cock into a pillow instead of your hand, then that is exactly what I want you to do. I’m training you so dutifully, you can at least do this for me, can’t you pet?”

“Y-yes master,” Obi-Wan’s voice was shaky, his presence in the force a delicious knot of anxiety and relief. 

He let Obi-Wan finish his breakfast in peace after that, or at least, without pressing him further on that particular subject. In the training room later, he was finally able to get Obi-Wan to hesitantly remove his tabards and shirts for the first time, his kata’s losing some of their usual poise to distraction at Qui-Gon’s equally bared chest, to skittishness at the feeling of Qui-Gon’s hands on his skin, and to exhaustion - from lack of sleep and the brutal way Qui-Gon had been working his muscles. 

There was another motive to how hard Qui-Gon worked him, not just hoping for this sweet boy to relent, and ask for an easier life, give up on this jedi dream of his, but because when Obi-Wan was tired, he resisted Qui-Gon less, accepted the sweets and gifts more easily, his thoughts lingering on pleasant things more frequently, easily tellable, from the upward lit of his lips.

On his nineteenth day on the ship Obi-Wan had been so distracted by the muscles and ink on Qui-Gon’s chest in the salle that Qui-Gon had thought for a handful of moments, that he had broken Obi-Wan faster than he had anticipated. Obi-Wan had licked his lips unconsciously and he thought that he would ask for Qui-Gon’s touch, so much earlier than expected; but for all the small battles Obi-Wan was losing, he still denied himself that, unsurprising, with the way he still talked around pleasuring himself. 

Qui-Gon had been so frustrated that he had grabbed Xanatos by the wrist and fucked him from behind over the dining hall table, where he was sure that Obi-Wan would end up seeing them, when he predictably came searching for his food. Qui-Gon didn’t pretend not to notice him this time, locking eyes with his padawan for a second, before Obi-Wan unfroze and fled the room, holding Xanatos down harder and picturing green eyes and an innocent face as he chased his orgasm. 

Work called his attention away for a few days after that, business on Nar Shaddaa as an upstart gang were fool enough to try and encroach on his territory, taking illegal cybernetics when they knew Avarus controlled that trade. An example had to be made. The ship docked in the space port and Qui-Gon instructed Obi-Wan not to leave the ship, a small feeling of guilt attempting to creep around him when Obi-Wan’s shoulders sagged with disappointment as he remained confined to the ship. But Nar Shaddaa was a dangerous place, and an innocent and lost looking jedi padawan would be snatched off the streets in minutes. 

He took Xanatos with him as the highest ranking lieutenant on the ship, and because his pretty face often had the enemy underestimate him.Nar Shaddaa was crawling with Qui-Gon’s rats, too scared of Darth Avarus to even contemplate lying to him, and he discovered this new gang’s base in short order. They did not issue a warning, and before the sun had set everyone who had ever spoken a kind word to Nes Begda was hanging lifeless by their ankle throughout the district, like a macabre seasonal decoration. 

By the time they got back to the ship Xanatos was still running with adrenalin and predictably attempted to slip a hand inside Qui-Gon’s barely-ruffled shirt, Qui-Gon caught it and pushed him off, shooting Xanatos a warning look and using the force to shove him back when he tried it again. Xanatos bitched about it only ever being on Qui-Gon’s terms, and Qui-Gon warned him not to forget his place. 

Obi-Wan was jittery when he found him, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet and asking Qui-Gon if they could go train with an uncharacteristic hand on Qui-Gon’s arm that would have had him agreeing to almost anything, the first time Obi-Wan had been the one to initiate contact. He took his padawan down to the training salle and ran him through sabre forms until some of that excess energy had dissipated from him. 

Obi-Wan was good with a sabre, surprisingly so, given his long absence from it. He was nowhere near being able to best Qui-Gon, but Qui-Gon knew talent when he saw it, and once again cursed the jedi order for throwing Obi-Wan away like he was nothing, making him feel as though he lacked worth when he overflowed with it. 

When they stopped for a break, Qui-Gon encouraging Obi-Wan to drink and enjoy a sweet, Xanatos came striding into the room, carrying a data pad and handing it over to Qui-Gon to read over while standing unnecessarily close. It was a report from Tatooine, of all forsaken places, the rigged podraces that raked in money and kept the status quo on that pointless sand pile, helped maintain the balance he had with the hutts, so that hopefully they wouldn't see the knife when it came; and it was soon to come now. 

“The numbers are down,” Qui-Gon said, frowning at what he was reading, there was a bug in the system, an unexpected winner that shouldn’t have been allowed to happen. 

“Thus why I knew you would want to see it immediately,” Xanatos replied, barely containing the sneer he paid to Obi-Wan. His jealousy was not a surprise, it had always been a trait he carried, no matter how clearly Qui-gon stated the boundaries of their relationship - the limit of his regard. However, when Obi-Wan stepped closely to his side, close enough that Qui-Gon could feel his heat, and looked up at him with big eyes and a nervous bite on his lip, Qui-Gon _was_ surprised. 

“May I see, master?” He asked sweetly, and Qui-Gon would bet that Obi-Wan didn’t know - wasn’t able to realise or admit to himself - what he was doing. 

“What could a _failed_ jedi initiate possibly have to offer in this situation,” Xanatos sneered, Qui-Gon was impressed when Obi-Wan ignored him, a small hand coming up to rest on Qui-Gon’s arm. 

“Xanatos get out,” Qui-Gon ordered, and Xanatos seethed but did as he was bid. “Are you jealous, pet?” Qui-Gon teased when the door returned their privacy, catching Obi-Wan’s chin so that he couldn’t shy away, his mouth a perfect bow. 

“No,” Obi-Wan protested, he probably even believed it himself. 

“My mistake,” Qui-Gon smiled, knowing by Obi-Wan’s fidget that he knew Qui-Gon didn’t believe it. Good, it would do him well to think on _why_ he had been jealous, if he could admit to himself that he was. 

They went back to training, and after a few more days the ship touched down in the Tion Cluster, where Qui-Gon made something of a residence. His days became split between training Obi-wan until he was ready to drop and seeing to his own business, having to sit through Dooku grilling him on why he had taken on the jedi boy, testily reminding the older man that he wasn’t his padawan any longer. His operations had given more to Sidious than anything his old master had ever done, and Dooku knew it, it made him nervous, though he would never admit to it, ad had him talking about pointless plans involving clones; as if Qui-Gon wasn’t already halfway to cornering that illegal market as well. 

After a cycle of training his new apprentice, Qui-Gon began to grow weary of the way exhaustion made Obi-Wan jumpy and skittish just as much as it made him malleable; and as time passed, Qui-Gon knew that a well times sweet popped into his pet’s mouth could make him just as docile as tiredness could. 

He surprised himself by enjoying those moments more, when he pushed Obi-Wan to try and new flavour, gave him gifts that he always tried but failed to reject, and came to love easily. The gifts were growing steadily bigger, knowing that he had to ease his little jedi into accepting slightly more each time, but the blush on his cheeks and sweet little ‘thank yous’ and smile on his lips was more rewarding that watching Obi-Wan scoop himself up from the ground at ever been.

He resolved, as he watched Obi-Wan holding a pose with quivering arms and legs, that he would ease back his training. Obi-Wan was not going to break from exhaustion, he was too good - or too desperate to _be_ good - to ask for an easier way. He would get Obi-wan to give into him through little things, a sweet here, praise there, and always teasing, always reminding him of all that pent up desire that was bursting at his seams to come out. 

Obi-Wan would be a beautiful little hedonist, of that Qui-Gon had no doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for Obi-Wan getting manhandled and thrown around in the name of 'sparring' causing poor obi a bit of embarrassment. Your comments continue to give my life meaning <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's qui's turn to get horny i guess
> 
> Thank you for all the beautiful comments, you're all amazing and hearing your thoughts and encouragements keeps me going more than you would believe <3

Qui-Gon had been unable to shake the sad look that had come over Obi-Wan when he hadn’t been allowed to alight on Nar Shaddaa; he had kept him confined on the ship for far too long. They were in the Tion Cluster now, touched down on a lush green planet called Olserra, but Obi-Wan was still forced to spend all of his time inside the compound Qui-Gon called home; filled with far more open green space than a ship could ever be, but still something of a cage. 

So without much thought, Qui-Gon cleared his schedule for the end of the week, when he knew a carnival of sorts was being held in a local town. Obi-Wan appeared for breakfast that morning delightfully rumpled from sleep and and dutifully - needlessly - suppressing a yawn. 

“Trouble sleeping, pet?” Qui-Gon asked when Obi-Wan sat, fairly sure by now that his padawan just had no love for mornings, no matter the quality of his rest; but he loved to see the way Obi-Wan squirmed whenever he brought up the night, and this morning was no exception.

“No more than usual master,” Obi-Wan replied, which was an omission, more than his padawan likely intended it to be, of how often Obi-Wan now chased his own pleasure, not that it made it any easier for him to admit to. 

Qui-Gon had not missed the way Obi-Wan had snuck the pillowcase into the wash two night previously, and his pet’s face had flamed when Qui-Gon had given him another that had spent a few nights in his bed already, and would smell of him rather than whatever detergent was being used by the staff. But however much his face had burned with embarrassment, Obi-Wan had still taken the proffered pillowcase, dangling from Qui-Gon’s fingers; and that was progress. 

“I thought we might take a trip today.”

“A trip?” Obi-Wan asked, perking up as he slathered rosy red jam onto a piece of toast. A tenday ago he was still trying to get away with having it plain. When he took a bite it smeared the jam around his lip a little, made it red, Qui-Gon didn’t hesitate before swiping it off with his own thumb and having a taste as Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered down shyly, he wondered if he could get away with feeding it to him, next time, the thought of pressing his thumb inside Obi-Wan’s mouth so intoxicating Qui-Gon had to work hard not to get lost in the thought. 

“Yes, there is a carnival in a nearby town, I believe you will enjoy it.” He would pretend not to, and stand ramrod straight with perfect posture, and assess it as if it were a test, or a battlefield; but Qui-Gon was becoming well practised at making Obi-Wan relaxed, both when he was there, and when he wasn’t.

“Is this for my training?” Obi-Wan asked, still so suspicious, so _fixated_.

“Is it not important to understand alien cultures and be able to adapt to them as needed?” Qui-Gon replied, and with a smile, Obi-Wan became excited at the prospect of getting out into the world. 

Xanatos attempted to wheedle his way onto the trip for various unimaginative reasons that culminated in suggesting that Qui-Gon needed a bodyguard, for which he scolded the younger man, informed him that desperate was an ugly look on him, and to get back to his real tasks. 

After emerging out of the compound and helping Obi-Wan into a speeder - entirely unnecessarily as he hardly needed help to climb into a speeder, but the point was far more about the small, warm hand that was briefly wrapped in his own - his padawan got increasingly more excited. For perhaps the first time since Bandomeer, Qui-Gon was sure his pet was jittery with something other than nerves. Happy anticipation was a good look on him, lifted him, made him impossibly brighter than he already was.

As Qui-Gon had anticipated, as soon as he parked the speeder, Obi-Wan practically tripped over himself to get out, before seeming to remember himself, where he was, who he was with, what he was doing - training to be a _jedi_ \- and immediately forced himself into composure. His back stiffened, his restless hands joined together calmly behind him, he schooled his expression. Qui-Gon didn’t like it, and took Obi-Wan’s elbow in his hand, partly to make him jump, partly because after he jumped, he always relaxed. 

It took a mixture of techniques to get Obi-Wan to lighten up and enjoy himself; pretending that this was an element of his training, and not Qui-Gon finding new ways to spoil him; buttering him up with sweets from local sellers; coaxing him into trying his hand at the myriad of little games set up; and quizzing him intermittently about what he was picking up about Olserra customs just from walking around. 

It set his padawan at ease, and soon enough Qui-Gon was letting Obi-Wan lead him around the fair - while also being sure to make sure Obi-Wan _didn’t_ notice that he was the one leading, or he would likely freeze up and become far too proper again, and Qui-gon would be back at square one. For now, Obi-Wan was trying his hand at a game - entirely rigged of course - where he had to throw a ball and attempt to knock down three bottles. It looked deceptively easy, but the bottles were of course magnetised and allowed to topple only a couple of times a day.

Not realising this, because Obi-Wan was innocent in more ways than one, and still charmingly un-cynical about the world around him, Obi-Wan threw the ball and looked up at Qui-Gon with wide eyes that hovered somewhere between embarrassed and pleading. Qui-Gon could practically read his thoughts; how would he want a padawan that couldn’t win a simple carnival game. And also the thought that Obi-Wan had, but would never admit to himself; I really wanted that large bear plushie.

His padawan was far too honest to use the force to assist him; Qui-Gon was not - what would be the point of honesty in a rigged game anyway. He took a ball from the bored teenager manning the stand and threw it hard, using the force to destabilise the magnets, and sent all three metal bottles over neatly. 

“How did you do that?” Obi-Wan asked, pouty little mouth hanging slightly open. “Wait you didn’t - ” he started, cottoning on to Qui-Gon’s less than honest employment of the force. He shut his pet up by handing him over the large bear prize. Obi-Wan’s arms had to reach to make it around the bear, and when his face peeked out around the side, he was suppressing a smile. 

Qui-Gon toned down the rigorous - ridiculous - aspects of Obi-Wan’s physical training after that, having realised that he was never going to break Obi-Wan that way, and deciding from the carnival that it gave him far more pleasure to see Obi-Wan flushed from happiness, than it did trying to work him until he broke. 

Although, that wasn’t to say that Qui-Gon didn’t still enjoy watching his athletic young padawan work up a sweat; he still had him practice his katas, drill through sabre forms and run circuits, but Qui-Gon lost interest in doing it until Obi-Wan seemed ready to drop. There was far more enjoyment to be had in meditating with his padawan, when his shields were at their weakest, and his mind the calmest.

It had been a long while since Qui-Gon had bothered meditating himself, a stuffy jedi practice that he had never put much stock in, but with Obi-Wan, he could finally see the appeal as his usually so wound-tight padawan gradually relaxed into deep oceans of thought.

“Master,” Obi-Wan started one day, they would have to leave the compound soon and return to the cold of space, but Qui-Gon hadn’t told Obi-Wan that yet, they’d barely been back on planet a tenday.

“Yes pet?” Qui-Gon replied, brushing aside the papers he was working with; it was important, but would keep for a few minutes at least. 

“I was wondering, ah, if I had done anything wrong?” Obi_Wan asked nervously, and Qui-Gon furrowed his brow. 

“Why would you think that?” He asked, his pet had been nothing but perfect since he stepped foot on his ship.

“It’s just, you have tapered my physical training a lot in the last week or so. I was worried maybe you didn’t think I could handle it. I know there must be something I am lacking and that is how I ended up here, I would just like to know what it is. I like to be challenged, master, I thought I was achieving your goals well. Sorry, you’re busy I shouldn't try to monopolise your time,” Obi-Wan trailed off nervously, sweetly, chewing at his lip, as if Qui-Gon hadn’t readily shown his willingness to complete his work in the salles while Obi-Wan trained - no view in the galaxy could compare.

“Come here pet,” Qui-Gon summoned, standing up and holding out a hand that Obi-Wan hesitantly took. He used it to steer his padawan until he was perched neatly on his high desk, feet not quite touching the ground. Obi-Wan had to look up to meet his eyes, as Qui-Gon towered more than a head higher like this. “Lovely,” Qui-Gon praised, pleased when Obi-Wan blushed, less so when he tried to turn his head away. “None of that,” he chided, catching his chin. 

“Sorry master,” Obi-Wan replied, letting himself be caught. 

“I have cut back on your physical training not because you cannot rise to the challenge, but because it is clear to me that you do not need additional fitness training, you are faster and stronger than any senior apprentice I ever encountered,” Qui-Gon said, letting one of his large hands encircle Obi-Wan’s bicep and squeeze it teasingly as Obi-Wan squirmed. “And your physique is unimprovable,” he added with a leer. 

“It’s not as good as yours,” Obi-Wan said, before seeming to realise a second later exactly what had just come out of his mouth. “I only mean that you’re very strong master! And there is always room for improvement.”

“Of course,” Qui-Gon replied, enough of a tease in his tone for Obi-Wan to know that he didn’t believe him for a second. “As for my time, you will know when I am too busy for an interruption because I will make it clear; otherwise I invite you to monopolise my time, you are far more diverting than anything a dry datapad could have to say.”

“So I’ve not done anything wrong?” Obi-Wan checked again, Qui-Gon could tell, by the extra length in the back of his hair, that his padawan was growing a nerf-tail, and he tugged on it lightly, making that pretty look of embarrassment cross over his face again.

“Nothing, pet. And this is going to look adorable, I don’t promise to leave it alone.”

“You don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Qui-Gon replied, if Obi-Wan wanted to make himself look like the perfect jedi padawan, then it would only make him all the more beautiful when he finally gave in to everything he _really_ wanted. Qui-Gon thought the matter was closed, but his padawan didn’t hop down from the desk, instead he fidgeted slightly and looked down. “Is there something else padawan?”

“I was just wondering, if you would mind making my physical training harder again? I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up to where I’m supposed to be by now,” Obi-Wan asked a little haltingly. Qui-Gon could have told him that he didn’t need it - which he didn’t, astoundingly - but what seemed to matter was that Obi-Wan _thought_ that he did need it, which meant that the whole time he wasn’t working himself into a dripping mess on the floor he seemed to think he was failing, and if there was one time Obi-Wan wasn’t happy, it was when he perceived failure in himself. 

“I can,” Qui-Gon replied. If exercise was the only way to get Obi-wan to a state of panting and dripping in his presence, then he was more than happy to return to it until other avenues became available to him. “When would you like to begin?”

“Today?” Obi-Wan asked, before hastily tacking on the end: “If that isn’t too much trouble, I don’t mind waiting.”

“Today will be fine, collect some lunch while I finish my work, I will see you in the salle in a little over an hour, pet,” Qui-Gon instructed, and Obi-Wan slipped off the desk and to his feet, scurrying off dutifully. Obi-Wan’s near-insatiable desire to please was something which occupied Qui-Gon’s thoughts _often_. 

When Qui-Gon reached the salle, exactly when he said he would, Obi-Wan was already present, and bouncing on the balls of his feet, his back studiously to the spot where he had found Qui-Gon fucking Xanatos the first time. 

They sparred with their sabres, Qui-Gon could still easily fend off his padawan’s attacks, but that didn’t mean he wasn't already impressively gifted with a sabre; only that Qui-Gon had had decades more practice than the bright young thing in the salle with him. He didn’t overwhelm Obi-Wan, knowing that that only damaged his confidence, led him down darker, self-flagellating routes of thought that Qui-Gon had no love for, but he did make his padawan work for it, reach for every block, twist hard for every parry, search for every opening.

At some point, Obi-Wan seemed to cotton on to the fact his master was toying with him, and with a growl of frustration that lit a fire up Qui-Gon’s spine for how very out of place it was in a _jedi_ , Obi-Wan jumped into the air, his body a beautiful - and distracting - arc as he tumbled over Qui-Gon’s head and to the side, and successfully nicked Qui-Gon in the side as he was busy gazing at his padawan’s form. Said padawan whooped with victory before clamping a hand over his mouth when Qui-Gon raised a brow at him, the wound not more than a cursory sting. 

“Very good, pet.”

“I got you, I actually got you.”

“Yes you did, though I wouldn’t get too cocky, that move is unlikely to work on anyone not so utterly beguiled by your body,” Qui-Gon said. “If you took off all that extra clothing, I daresay I’d be at your mercy,” he added at a murmur, Obi-Wan almost tripping over his own feet as Qui-Gon advanced into his space and took the lightsaber from his grip. “That’s enough with the sabres, for today.”

“We’ve barely gotten started.”

“Yes, but I believe you would benefit more from some hand to hand training, which we both know you struggle more with,” Qui-Gon replied, before stripping off his shirt and getting to enjoy the way Obi-Wan’s eyes caught on the tattoos snaking over right pectoral, as he always did. “You know, you’re welcome to come and have a closer look, if the design intrigues you,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan immediately averted his eyes and shook his head timidly. Qui-Gon smiled, loving the chase. 

“Are we practising anything in particular?” Obi-Wan asked after clearing his throat. 

“I think I desire a holistic view of your current capabilities,” Qui-Gon replied. “I imagine you would be more comfortable without your shirts, you’re looking a little flushed, pet,” Qui-Gon added, smirking when Obi-Wan stoically kept them on with a muttered ‘I’m fine’, giving Qui-Gon his immediate goal; work Obi-Wan hard enough that it was simply too hot for the extra layers. 

However much Obi-Wan could hold his own against Qui-Gon with a sabre, his hand to hand needed work. Qui-Gon was a brawler, Obi-Wan was _not_ . Their difference in size and strength also left him at more of a disadvantage, where there was not a glowing laser sword to hide behind. All this worked in Qui-gon’s favour, as he pinned Obi-Wan to the floor over and over again in the name of _training_. 

“This isn’t fair,” Obi-Wan huffed, likely hoping Qui-Gon thought the red in his face was from exertion, as Qui-Gon held him to the ground; on his back this time, his hands pinned in one of Qui-Gon’s - fitting there perfectly - and the rest of him held still by Qui-Gon’ knees on Obi-Wan’s thighs. 

“And would you always expect an opponent to fight fair?” Qui-Gon asked, climbing back off of Obi-Wan and offering him a hand. 

“No,” Obi-Wan admitted. 

“Then your training is exactly as it needs to be.”

Obi-Wan went down three more times, tantalising little droplets of sweat disappearing down past the too-heavy layers of Obi-Wan’s robes, before he relented and finally stripped off his tabards, taking the drink Qui-Gon offered him gratefully. It was a good distraction, allowing Qui-Gon to study how far his flush went - down to his sternum - and the preferred path of the beads of sweat running down his body - sloping down over his clavicle, continuing down, skating around the sweet dusty pink of his nipple, before finally soaking into his damp skin. 

With so much extra skin available to him, Qui-Gon was _hungry_ , and gave no quarter to Obi-Wan this time, easily blocking his first swing, grabbing him about the middle and slamming him into the wall - a deliberately chosen section of wall - it forced all the air out of his padawan, and the flush going down to his chest stained a darker red as he realised where Qui-Gon had him pinned. Qui-Gon narrowly resisted leaning in to lick at the sweat now pooling in the dip of his clavicle. 

“I don’t think an opponent would pin me this way,” Obi-Wan said, no doubt more breathless than he had intended. He was right, of course, Qui-Gon had him pinned against the wall like prey, not like an opponent. Obi-Wan’s feet were barely touching the floor, most of his weight taken by Qui-Gon’s own as he pressed him back against the wall. He thought of Xanatos, and how badly he had wanted him to be Obi-Wan instead. 

“That would depend on what your opponent _wanted_ ,” Qui-Gon purred, and physically felt Obi-Wan shiver in response. He could feel Obi-Wan’s breath against his bare chest, flexed his hands against the small waist in one of his hands, felt the undeniable twitch of his padawan’s cock. He was about to laugh lowly when Obi-Wan - fuelled by embarrassment - slipped from his grip in an impressive twist that wouldn't have worked if Qui-Gon hadn’t been lost in fantasies of gathering Obi-Wan’s legs up around his waist.

“Never lose focus,” Obi-Wan said with an unexpectedly cheeky smile, parroting back Qui-Gon’s own words from earlier in their session. 

“Imp,” Qui-Gon growled, advancing on his padawan again. Obi-Wan darted about, successfully evading Qui-Gon’s hands longer than he had before, dodging and weaving, and landing a few blows of his own, but with one well placed whip of his foot, Qui-Gon sent Obi-Wan tumbling down again. 

He fell on his front this time, catching himself to avoid hurting his face, and Qui-Gon dropped down over him, caging the younger man beneath his body, grabbing a wrist in each hand and holding them tightly to the floor. He pressed himself against Obi-Wan’s back, draped along the length of him, his hips snug against Obi-Wan’s pert little ass. His cock wasn’t hard - yet - but it was undeniably interested, and large enough to be felt regardless. He knew the moment his padawan felt him, going perfectly still beneath him. 

“I yield!” Obi-Wan squeaked beneath him. 

“Hmm, pet, you’ve never yielded that easily before, I wonder what’s wrong. You wouldn’t be trying to hide something from me, would you?” Qui-Gon crooned into his ear. 

“Master please,” Obi-Wan pleaded, Qui-Gon flipped him over beneath him anyway, Obi-Wan’s hands coming up to cover his face as the obvious tent in his pants, confirming Qui-Gon’s suspicion.

“Did you find me pressed up against your ass exciting, pet?” Qui-Gon teased, his own cock thickening further as he tugged Obi-Wan’s hands away from his face - not that it meant Obi-Wan met his eye. “Still too shy to answer me, oh pet, you are lovely. I think I have another assignment for you.”

“What?” Obi-Wan squeaked again, tone full of humiliation and disbelief, trying to cover his face again only to be denied again, as if Qui-Gon could miss a second of this beautiful picture. 

“I want you to go back to your room and find pleasure, so that all of this doesn’t go to waste,” Qui-Gon said, squeezing Obi-Wan’s hip, mesmerised for a second by the way Obi-Wan’s cock jerked in its confines. “And if you’re feeling particularly _good_ , I want you to play with your hole as well.”

“Master!” Obi-Wan shouted, scandalised. 

“I won’t be disappointed if you don’t, but I will be very, _very_ pleased if you do,” Qui-Gon finished, easing himself off of Obi-Wan who lay on the floor frozen for a few moments, before hoping - a little awkwardly - to his feet and fleeing back to his room. Hopefully to do as Qui-Gon had asked, and he looked forward to finding out the next morning. 

Looking at the doors his padawan had fled from, Qui-Gon lazily palmed himself, cock continuing to fatten as his mind provided ideas of what Obi-Wan could be doing that very moment, perhaps his pet had shoved his hand down his pants as soon as the door was shut behind him, so hard from the way Qui-Gon had pinned him to the floor. 

Qui-Gon strode back to his own room before he let his fantasies overwhelm, him, giving into them easily as soon as his own door was closed, opening the fastenings on his trousers and wrapping a hand around himself, stroking a couple of times as he imagined Obi-Wan sunk to his knees furiously jerking his hard little cock. 

Qui-Gon forced himself to have a little more dignity, moving to the ‘fresher and stepping out of his clothes and into the warm stream of water, letting it beat down on his back as his hand began to work his cock with more purpose, thumbing at the head as he thought about Obi-Wan prostrate on his bed with unsure fingers pressing at his virgin hole for the first time. Would he hump against the mattress as he did it, no, better, would he hump his desperate little cock against Qui-Gon’s pillow, like he knew his padawan liked doing; nothing made him blush brighter than when Qui-Gon questioned him about that. 

He used his other hand to tug lightly at his balls, wondering if Obi-Wan had thought to play with his own - had instinct led him there, or had his innocence and embarrassment stopped him from thoroughly exploring his body, he wished he got to see his expression each time his pet discovered a new sensation. More than anything he ached to watch Obi-Wan pleasure himself, knowing it would be such a sweet sight, imagining his padawan’s cheeks red with humiliation, biting at his lip as he rutted desperately into Qui-Gon’s pillow.

Qui-Gon stroked himself faster, his fantasies losing coherency and coming to him thick and fast; Obi-Wan’s inexperienced mouth sucking on his cock, stretching that tight virgin hole on his fingers - training him, so that he would be able to take Qui-Gon’s cock - Obi-Wan’s nervous hand around the girth of him, he’d probably have to use both. He thought of getting his hands on Obi-Wan, wondered how quickly he would come the first time someone else touched his cock, what would happen when Qui-Gon sucked his cock and licked his hole. 

He thought of Obi-Wan tied up, of him collared and sweet, of him bratty and defiant, he thought of spanking his ass until it was as red as his blush, of having Obi-Wan trapped under his desk, warming his cock while he worked, he thought of fucking him in front of his subordinates, he thought of fingering his hole and making his pet come and come and come until he cried, he thought of spoiling Obi-Wan so thoroughly with pleasure that his little pet would barely let him out of bed. 

A final image coalesced in Qui-Gon’s mind as he stripped his thick, throbbing cock quick and tight; Obi-Wan, his perfect padawan, so bright and eager to learn, asking Qui-Gon so politely to teach him this too, his lips red, beard burn on his neck as he asked Qui-Gon to tell him how to suck his cock, as he choked trying to push himself to take it all, the tears that would well in his eyes, how hard he would try to be good in this too. 

He was lost as he thought of Obi-Wan, his face covered in Qui-Gon’s come, asking his master if he had been good. Qui-Gon grunted as he came, fat cock pulsing and jerking in his hand as he shot thick ropes of come against the tiled wall of the fresher, mind racing through images of what a sated Obi-Wan would look like, how pretty he would look covered in Qui-Gon’s spend, until his cock softened in his hand.

He finished his shower and reluctantly saw to some work before getting to bed, looking forward to how deeply Obi-Wan would blush at breakfast the next morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for the return to Obi-land and him having a little secret


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh the response to this fic is killing me!! all of your comments are killing me!! but its okay because i write faster as a ghost!!! <3333
> 
> Ily all, chapter involves horniness, sweeteness and xanatos being a jackass

Obi-Wan felt relived when the door shut behind himself, but no less tightly wound. He was embarrassed by his hard cock, obvious in his padawan’s clothes, but then he thought; should he be? Jinn certainly hadn’t seemed to mind, quite the opposite, his master had definitely liked it, and a large part of Obi-Wan wished that Jinn had just touched him then and there, taken the dilemma out of his hands. 

He’d been here a month, he thought of Jinn every time he rutted against his pillow, which had become every night, whether Jinn told him to or not, he had no excuses to hide behind other than he  _ wanted it _ . He wanted Jinn, knew he did, but also knew that he shouldn’t want him, that it was wrong for a jedi to want this at all, in solitude, let alone with a partner, let alone with a  _ sith _ . 

But Jinn had asked him to, he could pretend, at least this time, that he was only doing it because his master had asked him, and not because his cock ached in his pants and his head swam with images of Jinn shirtless and sweaty, and he knew now how good it could feel, wanted to feel that again. 

Blushing even though there was no one to see him, Obi-Wan wriggled out of the rest of his clothes and scurried over to his bed, turning out the lights and disappearing under the covers as he always did. Jinn had replaced his pillow just a couple of days ago, it still smelled like his master, that clean, masculine scent of his. 

Torn between whether he wanted to bury his face in it, or rut against it this time, Obi-Wan’s hand found its way under his stomach and around his own cock, jerking at the touch. Obi-Wan bit at his lip hard, he still didn’t do this often, though he could at least admit that he liked it, that his hand felt good. He ended up straddling one of his other pillows and nuzzling his face into Jinn’s pillow as he began to rock his hips, loving the way the soft cotton felt against his bare cock. 

It was easy, with his eyes closed and the smell of Jinn all around him, to imagine that he wasn’t alone. He tried to invent someone, but it was fruitless, and when he was close to climax, it always morphed into his master anyway. Today, with the memory of Jinn’s large hands on him during their sparring so fresh in his mind, the sight of his naked chest and that tattoo that Obi-Wan still desperately wanted to see up close, he barely fought his mind as it conjured up his master.

Pressed against the pillow, his hips erratic - he was still new to this, still came so easily - he imagined his master behind him, over him, like he had been so many times on the salle floor. His master’s hands were so large, Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure why that was so important to him, but his mind insisted on fixating on it. He thought of the way those hands could almost encircle his waist, how small he felt when Jinn manhandled him, how he always tensed when Jinn touched him, no matter how casual, for fear of revealing just how much he liked it. 

His cock was smearing sticky fluid on the pillowcase, and Obi-Wan bit his lip, knowing he would have to find a way to clean it again, even though he knew that Jinn knew what he got up to in the dark by now. It made him wonder what Jinn did in the dark, how he pleasured himself, what he thought of. He wondered if he thought of him, and his cock jerked, hips moved a little faster. 

Another memory came to Obi-Wan, of how Jinn had felt pressed up against him, the feel of his cock pressed up against his bottom; he hadn’t been as hard as Obi-Wan, which was embarrassing in its own right, and he had already been so much bigger. He imagined Jinn rutting against him, like Obi-Wan was doing to his pillow, and then he remembered, just in time to stop himself, that pleasuring himself hadn’t been the only thing his master had requested of him. 

Obi-Wan’s face burned just thinking about it, it felt so  _ dirty _ . But surely Jinn wouldn’t have suggested it to him, if it wasn’t supposed to feel good? Jinn took pleasure in embarrassing Obi-Wan, of that there was no doubt, but he also liked it when Obi-Wan felt good, something that he had realised at the fair, how satisfied his master had been when Obi-Wan smiled around the ridiculous bear he had been handed. 

So if Jinn wanted him to do it, then it must feel good, even if the idea of it was strange to Obi-Wan. Then again, with Jinn pressed up against his back like he had been in the salle, Obi-Wan had had to resist an almost primal urge to roll his bottom back against him. 

Obi-Wan remembered then how he had seen Jinn with Xanatos, pushing his cock into the other man’s rear while he wailed and moaned beneath him. He had assumed, when his friends on Bandomeer had talked of such things, that receiving had been more about giving your partner pleasure, but after Jinn’s request, he wondered if he had been wrong. 

With stiff limbs and his cock aching for the release he had almost had, Obi-Wan forced himself to sit up, his hard cock standing up against his belly and feeling obscene as he shuffled across the room to his vanity, finding the bottle of lubricant that had been left there for him, and taking it with him back to the bed. 

He was unsure for a moment, whether to lie on his front or his back for this, unsure which would be best, before finding comfort in the familiarity of straddling his pillow and settling back down on his stomach. With awkward hands he squirted some of the cool gel onto his fingers, brimming hot with embarrassment when he squeezed the tube too hard and got some on the bedding, but determined not to be deterred, to be good for Jinn and do what he wanted, even if he had made it clear that Obi-Wan didn’t have to, if he didn’t want to. But Jinn had also said that he would be pleased if he did, and Obi-Wan wanted to please his master however he could so that he continued to be trained.

He jerked when he pressed a slick finger against his hole, the gel colder against that sensitive skin than it had felt on his fingers. He bit at his lip, sure he was messing it up already, he wished Jinn was here, that he could tell him what to do, how to do it, show Obi-Wan what he was supposed to be doing. Obi-Wan knew all he would have to do was ask his master, and he  _ would _ be there, but that was a dangerous thought. 

Biting his lip Obi-Wan pressed his slick finger back against his hole, feeling himself tense at the foreign sensation even though he knew he needed to relax. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and changed his tactic, letting his finger massage around his rim instead, trying to get used to the feel, relieved when he found that he liked the way it felt, his cock, which had never gone soft, reminded him of his earlier desperation. When he finally began to relax, Obi-Wan pressed the tip of his finger inside his hole, gasping at the sensation. 

It was strange, like nothing he had ever felt before, but he  _ liked _ it, especially when he thought of Jinn’s large hands, how the tip of one of his fingers might feel in such an intimate place. His hips started rutting against the pillow again without any conscious input from his brain, and the movements helped him ease his finger further inside himself. It burned slightly, and was like nothing Obi-Wan had ever felt before, and he shocked himself with how badly he wanted  _ more _ .

On instinct, he started pushing his finger in and out of his hole, whining at how good it felt to have something inside him, frustrated by his bad angle, that he couldn’t push deeper with his finger. With a moan of annoyance, Obi-Wan pulled his finger from his hole and rearranged himself, widening his knees and stuffing a second pillow between his legs, so that he could lift his bottom up into the air and reach it more easily, while still being able to rut against soft cotton. 

Settled into his new position, Obi-Wan slipped his finger back inside himself, mouthing at Jinn’s pillow to muffle his sounds. He could get deeper like this and it excited him, had him rutting harder and faster against the pillows. He imagined Jinn up against his back, praising him while Obi-Wan fingered himself - better yet, while he took Jinn’s fingers. 

His fingers were so much thicker than Obi-Wan’s, and he wondered if he could fit a second finger inside himself to simulate the feeling of Jinn. He shifted his hips intending to try, when the slight change in angle sent Obi-Wan’s finger sliding over something inside himself that made him cry out with a loud, entirely un-smothered moan as his body tightened with white hot pleasure and his cock spurted into the pillow clamped between his legs.

As his fingers slipped from his hole and he flopped to the side of the pillow now covered in his come, Obi-Wan couldn’t even find the energy for his usual shame, so much more sated than he had ever been before. His limbs felt like jelly and he kept quaking with little aftershocks of pleasure, and he couldn’t help the way he fell asleep then and there, just like that. 

The shame came when he woke up the next morning, when Obi-Wan woke to a mess - both himself and his bedding. He could only hope to clean himself up in the ‘fresher, no way around the fact that he had no choice but to strip his bedding and leave it for laundry, praying to the force that by some miracle Jinn wouldn’t discover the extent of his mess. 

His cheeks burned in a way they hadn’t for almost a week as he joined his master for breakfast, Jinn picking up on it immediately and giving him one of those slow smiles that made his toes want to curl. Jinn didn’t say anything throughout their meal, which only left Obi-Wan even more on edge than usual, hardly able to eat a thing while Jinn watched him in silence with a smile on his face. 

When his master stood from the table he came around to Obi-Wan’s chair, standing behind him as he leant down and murmured in Obi-Wan’s ear. 

“I am very,  _ very _ , pleased with you pet,” he purred, picking up a piece of fruit from Obi-Wan’s plate and pressing it to his lips, Obi-Wan taking it without thought, catching himself and blushing furiously when he realised he had lapped some of the remaining juice from his master’s fingers. It was a confusing sensation, as his body attempted to flush with embarrassment, preen at the praise, and shiver from lust all at once. “Eat some more breakfast sweet boy, I don’t want you to be hungry,” Jinn said, petting a hand through Obi-Wan’s short - but no longer so closely cropped - hair, before exiting the room. 

Left quietly so that he could finish his meal, Obi-Wan despaired. There was no excuse this time, it wasn’t night, his body wasn’t confused from sparring. It was the cold light of day and he wanted his master, he wanted him  _ badly _ . 

Jinn didn’t tease him again that day - or at least, he didn’t tease him about what he had done the night before, he just trained him exactly the way Obi-Wan had asked, until his muscles were burning from exertion and his body was brimming with the force. Obi-Wan had asked after lunch, voiced filled with nervousness because he  _ knew _ his master was busy - busy with things Obi-Wan tried not to think about at all - whether or not he would join Obi-Wan for meditation today. 

He expected Jinn to reject him, his master was a sith and sith had less use for meditation than jedi did, but Obi-Wan meditated better when there was someone with him, a steady presence beside him, and Jinn surprised him by agreeing, setting aside a pile of datapads and leading Obi-Wan out to the courtyard, informing one of the many people who worked quietly in the compound that they were not to be disturbed. 

The meditation soothed Obi-Wan, his master was not exactly a calm presence in the force, but he was stalwart, steady and strong, even if he swirled with emotion that the jedi frowned upon. In his mind Obi-Wan tethered himself to Jinn, who he saw as a rock assailed by crashing waves, and bound to his certainty, Obi-Wan found it easy to let his mind clear and drift. As his master was never far from his thoughts these days, having him right there next to him helped him not to fixate too heavily. 

“Thank you, master,” Oi-Wan said, eyes fluttering open as the emerged from their meditation, feeling renewed and content, surprised to find Jinn looking at him with a more regretful expression.

“Tomorrow we must leave the planet, return to space, I have some business with the Hutts on Tatooine,” Jinn explained, reaching out and cupping Obi-Wan’s face when his expression feel even though he hadn’t meant it to, too relaxed from the meditation to properly control himself. “Forgive me pet.” 

A part of Obi-Wan understood that his master’s regretful expression was because he knew Obi-wan preferred it on-planet immeasurably, but it made so little sense with what he knew about sith that it was difficult for him to assimilate the knowledge. He had found that the more he learned about his master, the less he made sense. 

“Of course master, will I be able to leave the ship on the planet?” He asked, he knew why he hadn’t been allowed to leave on Nar Shaddaa, a dangerous place, but he was capable of defending himself and didn’t like to be confined to spacecraft for long stretches of time. 

“We should be able to arrange something, perhaps we can watch the podraces. But it depends how business goes,” Jinn replied, and Obi-Wan found himself smiling at the prospect of another planet to explore. 

Looking in his mirror that evening, Obi-Wan noticed something. He hadn’t noticed when he started it, that he was doing it at all. In the grand scheme of things a month of hair growth wasn’t that much at all, but it was enough that usually - on Bandomeer - he would have trimmed his hair down by now. The nerf tail was a little longer, having left that the first time he cut his hair after Jinn picked him up, that had been on purpose; but it wasn’t until he started twirling a little piece of hair, just slightly longer than the rest behind his right ear, that he realised what else he was doing. 

Obi-Wan snatched his hand away, surprised at himself and staring into the mirror. After a few moments, he let his hand go back to the strands of hair, and bit at his lip. He realised, with a start, that he  _ wanted _ to grow a padawan braid for Jinn, he wanted to mark out their time together, Jinn was training him so well, he already felt stronger and closer to the force than he had in years, it didn’t seem right to call him master without the braid. 

Obi-Wan worried though, about whether or not Jinn would want it, padawan braids were a jedi practice and as he kept reminding Obi-Wan; he was not a jedi. Neither was Obi-Wan really, he wasn’t at the temple, he wanted things that he shouldn’t, that he could barely admit to. But still, he wanted to do this. 

He looked down at the hair clippers and hesitated, he wanted to grow the braid, but he didn’t want Jinn to see it, didn’t want him to mock Obi-Wan for this particular thing - moreover, he didn’t want Jinn to be annoyed, to tell him to cut it off. But if he let his hair grow a little longer all over, then perhaps he would be able to hide the braid, pin it up under the rest of his hair, there for Obi-Wan in private moments, but not risking offending his master. 

Resolved, Obi-Wan put his hair trimmer back into the cabinet, and hoped that Jinn wouldn’t mind him growing his hair a little longer. 

Back on the ship, Obi-Wan was annoyed - and then annoyed at his own annoyance - to find that Xanatos had been brought along. From what he had observed, Xanatos wasn’t even all that important to his master, he ranked higher than most, but was hardly his master’s right hand; Jinn didn’t seem to  _ have _ a right hand, but it certainly wasn’t Xanatos. 

But the other man had intercepted Jinn when they had both been heading to the ship, Jinn carrying a couple of Obi-Wan’s bags - or rather, bags he claimed were full of Obi-Wan’s ‘things’ even though Obi-Wan certainly hadn’t packed them, and hadn’t noticed anything expected missing from his room - when Xanatos stopped them. 

“Darth Avarus, you are leaving for Tatooine, yes?”

“As well you know Xanatos, what of it?” Jinn had replied, sounding irked. 

“Well I assume that forgetting to inform me that we were leaving was simply and oversight and not incompetence?”

“Careful Xan,” Jinn had growled, eyes narrowing, Xanatos had attempted to laugh it off. 

“Not  _ your _ incompetence of course lord. But as you know I have handled the majority of the Tatooine Hutt deals, it would be ridiculous not to bring me along now. It is important these deals hold until we are ready to move on the Hutts properly.”

“You’d better pack fast, we’re leaving in five whether you’re on board or not,” Jinn had grunted before striding off down the corridor, he was just far enough away after having surprised Obi-Wan with his sudden haste, that Xanatos had been able to mutter something only for Obi-Wan to hear. 

“He’s bringing his toy along, how quaint. I wonder if he’ll sell you to the Hutt when he gets bored.” Xanatos had disappeared before Obi-Wan could think of a way to respond. 

“Are you alright, pet?” Jinn asked a couple of hours into the flight, picking up on Obi-Wan’s unusual quietness. 

“Fine,” Obi-Wan had smiled, though his master’s frown told him that he knew it wasn’t true, but he was glad when Jinn let it drop. 

When they reached Tatooine, Obi-Wan felt agitated as he saw Xanatos flicking his long hair over one shoulder, getting ready to leave the ship with a lightsaber attached to his belt - something Obi-Wan had not known he was capable of using. He reached out, fingers tangling with his master’s sleeve before he really thought about it.

“Can I come, master?” He asked, even though he knew Jinn was going to deal with the Hutts, that this was important. “Padawan’s usually accompany their masters on business.” 

“Maybe next time, pet.”

“This is why I need the extra sabre training,” Obi-Wan muttered, intending it only for his own ears but his master heard it too, took his chin between his large fingers and made him meet his piercing yellow eyes. 

“Your sabre work is beautiful, you would be better than an entire ship full of reinforcements. I just don’t think you’re going to like my work, pet,” his master replied, thumbing at Obi-Wan’s lower lip before releasing him and turning to leave. Obi-Wan found himself wishing Jinn had kissed him, just to force Xanatos to see it. But Jinn would never do that, because Obi-wan hadn’t told him that he wanted him to. 

When they returned, Jinn was in a good mood and Xanatos was smug in a way that made Obi-wan’s skin itch, made him greedy for his master’s attention. He was relieved when as promised, Jinn took him out to see the podraces, a hand at the small of Obi-Wan’s back, everyone else left behind on the ship.

The races were exhilarating, if brutal and won just as much by cheating and luck as they were by piloting skill. Jinn had given him a few coins, encouraged him to make a bet even when Obi-Wan refused to be told in whose favour the race was rigged - he lost the bet, but still felt giddy from the excitement of almost winning. Jinn bought them snacks from a scruffy looking man and laughed when Obi-Wan eyed the food warily, teasing him about only wanting hand-fed fresh fruit nowadays, making Obi-Wan blush. 

He was in high spirits by the time they returned to Jinn’s ship, his master leaving him to duck into one of the rooms Obi-Wan was still denied entry to when one of his lackeys handed him a report. Obi-Wan didn’t even feel too sore about not being trusted inside the room, too happy from their day in town. Xanatos found him idling near the door Jinn had disappeared behind, smiling to himself. 

“Is it your goal to look like some kind of lost, unwanted dog?”

“What?” Obi-Wan said, genuine confusion clouding his ability to parse what Xanatos had said exactly, feeling so deeply out of the blue and at odds with his current mood.

“Waiting here? Outside a room you’re not even allowed to  _ go _ in. I’d say don’t you have anything better to do but we both know you don’t. Does Avarus even want you lurking out here?”

“I’m just waiting for him,” Obi-Wan replied, realising how  _ stupid _ it sounded, how pathetic even to his own ears, that he was standing waiting in a hallway until his master returned from a room he wasn’t allowed to go in. Happily waiting. And the truth was, he  _ didn’t  _ know if Avarus had wanted him to wait, he had just done it. 

“You ever think that maybe he stepped inside the room to get away from you for a moment? You’re so clingy, he gets bored.”

“If he didn’t want me here he would tell me,” Obi-Wan replied, wavering even though he was sure of that, at least. Jinn was a sith, he wouldn’t mince his words if he wanted space from Obi-wan, would he?

“Force your pathetic,” Xanatos mocked. “The only person he has ever not become bored with, is  _ me _ . Certainly not some failed jedi. Look at yourself, what do you really have to offer him? No, I give it another month at most before he realises why the jedi dumped you and he’s done with you too. You’re not even using that prudish, tight little cunt to try and keep him interested are you?”

“You don’t know anything about- ” Obi-Wan started, but his voice betrayed the smallest note of hurt and Xanatos attacked it, like a dog with a scent. 

“Oh don’t I? Then why is Avarus still coming to  _ me _ ? If he was all that interested in you, then why do I still have bruises on my hips from how hard he fucked me just two nights ago? No, you’re not what he wants, and he’ll be bored of you in no time,” Xanatos mocked, face twisted with a cruel smirk as he marched off. 

Obi-Wan was proud when he managed to make it down the corridor and to his quarters before he started crying, angry at himself for letting simple words get to him, flaying open real fears that Obi-Wan had. He swiped at his eyes and panicked when the door to his room opened a few minutes later, his tears still flowing as he scrubbed at his face, sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“Padawan, where did you go- what’s wrong?” Jinn demanded, voice shifting in alarm as he caught sight of Obi-Wan crossing the room in four long strides. He cupped Obi-Wan’s face in his big hands, tried to brush away his tears and wouldn’t let him hide. 

“Nothing,” Obi-Wan sniffed, sounding pathetic even to his own ears. 

“Don’t lie to me pet,” Jinn replied, his voice firm but gentle at the same time, and he brushed more tears from Obi-Wan’s cheeks before straightening, encouraging Obi-Wan to cuddle into his middle with a hand on the back of his head, Obi-Wan sinking into his warmth more easily than he should have.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Obi-Wan said, it was more honest but he could still feel his master’s displeasure at the answer. “Someone said some things, it doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me who upset you, pet, so that I can flay them living,” Jinn said, voice low and dangerous, but Obi-Wan knew he couldn’t tell him it was Xanatos. He wasn’t some small child taking insults in the creche anymore, he was an adult, and he knew that Xanatos was important to Jinn’s operation, he didn’t want to create a problem or be a bother, he didn’t want to be more trouble than he was worth. He thought of what he had seen between his master and Xanatos, and couldn’t shake the worry that he wouldn’t be the one Qui-Gon chose. 

“Please master, I’m just - I’m just overreacting. It doesn’t matter.”

“It  _ does _ .”

“Please,” Obi-wan repeated a little more desperately, voice wobbling on the single word. 

“I don’t know how to make you feel better if you will not tell me who caused this,” Jinn sighed, running a hand through Obi-Wan’s hair. 

“Could you hold me, just until I calm down?” Obi-Wan asked, regretting it immediately, his own words making him feel small, who pathetic he must look to a sith. 

“Of course, pet,” Jinn replied unexpectedly. He picked up Obi-Wan and shifted him more fully onto the bed, climbing on bedside him, sitting up against the headboard and opening his arms for Obi-Wan to cuddle into his chest, which he did, haltingly, treading new ground. He was unused to affection like this from anyone, to have someone willing to cradle him when he was upset until he wasn’t any longer was something he had lost when he was found by the jedi, rather than when he was left. 

“Thank you, master,” Obi-Wan mumbled, pillowing his head on his master’s chest, relieved when Qui-Gon’s arm came around him and held him close. It reassured him at least, that his master was not bored of him yet. 

“Try to sleep little one, you’ll feel better when you wake. And when you feel better you will tell me who made you feel this way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well the end was softer than i expected?? tune in next time for obi-wan maybe finally admitting to quigs that he wants some very un-jedi-ly things?? so that could certainly be horny


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of you like darth avarus loves the padabooty and every comment you leave me gives me lyyyfeeee <33

Obi-Wan was both relieved and sad when he woke up to an empty bed. He had slept far longer than he had intended and woken up at an awkward time; when he would usually be going to bed. He realised he’s missed his usual dinner time with his master and hoped that he wasn’t in trouble for it. 

Despite his nap he felt exhausted, had a headache brewing and when he looked in the mirror his eyes were puffy and red. A cold flannel on his face took away a lot of the physical signs that he had been crying, though it did nothing to wipe away the humiliation he felt at letting his master see him that way, chasing comfort from a man who no doubt had better things to do. 

But, Jinn had been kind to him, undeniably so, had even tucked a blanket over Obi-Wan in his sleep. He was still embarrassed for himself, but hopefully his master didn’t think any less of him. Obi-Wan would just have to think of a good lie about what had gotten him so upset, so that he didn’t cause Jinn any extra trouble - not that lying was his strong suit. 

Obi-Wan shuffled out of his rooms on the hunt for food, not bothering to fix his sleep rumpled clothes and pleased to find his master in the dining room, looking as though he was just finishing up his dinner, he looked up when Obi-Wan entered. 

“Ah, you’re awake, good. I had the cook keep some food warm for you,” Jinn said, snapping his fingers at a droid that hurried out the room. 

“Thank you master,” Obi-Wan said, voice sheepish from leftover embarrassment.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you, there were matters that needed my attention.”

“I’m sorry to have been such a bother,” Obi-Wan replied, sitting in the seat adjacent to Jinn, who always sat at the head of the table. The feeling of Jinn’s fingers catching at his chin was familiar by now, but it still made Obi-Wan’s breath hitch as he was made to meet those yellow eyes.

“You are not a bother, pet. I would have stayed if I could, you are exceptionally cute when you’re sleeping, I believe you drooled on my chest a little,” Jinn teased and Obi-Wan immediately felt his face heat up. 

“I do not,” he protested, even though he well knew that he did sometimes drool when he was sleeping. 

“Are you ready to talk about what upset you so badly?” Jinn asked as the droid returned and set a plate of food down in front of Obi-Wan, all of his favourite things assembled - because Jinn had a preternatural ability to work out which of the luxurious foods he fed Obi-Wan he liked over others. 

“It was nothing, just some comments about the jedi that I overreacted to - you don’t exactly run a pro-jedi ship here,” Obi-Wan tried to tease, forcing a smile to his lips as Jinn frowned at him. “I think I was just overtired, and they caught me off guard. I don’t even know the name of who said them.”

“Pet,” Jinn said, tone warning but not entirely disbelieving, and Obi-Wan latched onto it. 

“Please master, I want to just put it behind me,” Obi-Wan said, voice imploring, knowing that he was looking at his master with wide, pleading eyes, and relieved when Jinn relented. 

“If you _do_ learn the name of this individual, you will tell me. I won’t have anyone walking around this ship and upsetting you.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said, unable to say that he promised when he was already not being entirely truthful with his master, but it was for the best, would be easier for Qui-Gon this way, and he all ready did so much for Obi-Wan. 

“Well then, I was going to save this for tomorrow but as you slept away most of the evening, I can’t imagine you are going to be particularly ready for bed at this moment,” Jinn started, piquing Obi-Wan’s curiosity as he ate his dinner. “Finish your food first though pet.” He said when Obi-Wan went to get up, and Obi-Wan blushed, feeling like a child that needed to be reminded of the most basic things. 

When his master was satisfied that he had eaten enough, he took him through the ship and back to his own quarters, the very setting making Obi-Wan fidget, trying so hard not to look at Jinn’s bed that he was being just as obvious as if he had stared by the way Jinn was smirking at him. 

“You are still _most_ welcome there pet, what did I tell you when you first arrived?” His master teased, a small wooden box in his hands. 

“That I only had to ask,” Obi-Wan squeaked, cheeks burning in the way that he had resigned himself too, having given up hope of ever being able to avoid blushing around his master by now.

“Especially now that I know how sweet you are when you’re sleeping,” Jinn added, voice low as he entered Obi-Wan’s space, far closer than he needed to be to hand over the little box, making Obi-Wan feel dwarfed by his larger frame. “Here, open it.”

With careful hands, Obi-Wan unlatched the box, less ornate then the box his lightsaber rested in, but beautiful in it’s simplicity, inside lay a single crystal, cerulean and shaped like a geometric drop of water, on a simple cord. Obi-Wan lifted it from the box and looked up at his master. 

“It’s beautiful, thank you master.”

“Let me,” Jinn reached out, taking the crystal from his hand and placed the cord over Obi-Wan’s head, until hung around his neck, long enough, and the crystal small enough, that it would sit beneath his padawan robed comfortable, right over his sternum. 

“What is that?” Obi-Wan gasped, suddenly feeling a gentle hum from the crystal, rolling like gentle waves through his chest, his master smiled at him indulgently. 

“It is a Votine Crystal. Something about its shape is perfectly in tune with the force, acts almost as a harmonic until the wear can feel the force more literally than usual. It will make your connection stronger, and the crystal reacts to you as well.”

“React to me how?”

“That you will have to find out for yourself, I would not be a good teacher if I simply gave you all the answers now would I.”

“Master I’ve never even heard of a Votine Crystal.”

“And why would you? To anyone not adept with the force it is nothing more than a pretty jewel among a universe of pretty jewels, as for the jedi, perhaps they’re too expensive, or too few, or simply too pretty for the jedi to advocate wearing them.”

“How expensive?” Obi-Wan asked, narrowing his eyes, Jinn laughed at him again and needlessly toyed with the cord around his neck, the sensitive spot where his pulse could be felt. 

“That is not for you to concern yourself with.”

Jinn guided him through a meditation after that, having Obi-Wan sit in the centre of his large bed - which was _distracting_ \- with his legs crossed, speaking in a deep, calming voice as he taught Obi-Wan how to use the crystal, how to be bolstered by it, comforted by it, how to tune in to that hum at his chest and use it to find his centre. It was so easy to follow Jinn’s voice, to do what he was asking with barely a conscious thought, let himself be guided and praised in equal measure. 

By the time his eyes fluttered open he felt like his master was filling him up from the inside out, despite being almost a metre away, pacing around the edge of the bed. Obi-Wan wondered, how much deeper his meditation might have been, if his master was with him instead, sitting behind him on the soft covers, bracketing him with his legs. 

Obi-Wan finally went to sleep late, after Jinn had gentled him out from his meditation and walked him back to his own rooms. Obi-Wan found himself idling at the door to his quarters for a moment, wishing he had the guts to rock up onto the balls of his feet and kiss his master like he wanted to do, but he ended up biting his lip and ducking his head and as retreated into his room alone. 

It was foolish, there was no need for him to still _be_ alone, he didn’t want to be anymore. He had been lonely nearly all of his life, he just hadn’t known it until Jinn had walked in and started taking up all of the empty space Obi-Wan hadn’t known he was surrounding himself with. He wanted to be a jedi, more than anything, it was still his dream, still what he was striving for every day. But the fact remained that he _wasn’t_ a jedi, not yet anyway, so would it really be so bad if he allowed himself this one thing?

Jinn never let him wonder if he wanted Obi-Wan in return, even without the direct invitations, it was in every tease and the heat with which he spoke to Obi-Wan, nearly everything that he said made somehow hot and suggestive until Obi-Wan felt half mad with how often his thoughts strayed from serenity and into the maelstrom that was his master. 

It was all too easy, alone in his room consumed with thoughts of his master, for Obi-Wan to bring himself to climax thinking about all of the things he might be able to teach Obi-Wan here as well. He worried he was doing it wrong, could barely reach himself properly, and his friends on Bandomeer had always joked about their hands, not rutting against a pillow. It was so easy to think about Jinn’s big hands guiding him, even if his mind was fuzzy on what exactly they would be showing him, and he split himself quickly at the fantasy every night. 

The shame always caught up with him in the morning, and he resolved to be better, to do better, to be the jedi he knew he could be as he hastily cleaned himself up. It only ever lasted until breakfast, until he saw his master, yellow eyes and strong forearms and teasing words that never failed to make Obi-Wan hot. 

By the time evening rolled around and Obi-Wan had endured training, sparring and force exercises with his master he felt ready to break with need. Desire running hot in his veins as every action his master teased him with the desert from his dinner, a spread of sweet treats that Jinn picked up and described to Obi-Wan, before hand feeding them to him one by one, making it clear this was the only way he was going to get his desert. 

Jinn bid him good night after dinner as he did most nights, and Obi-Wan lingered for a moment, as if teetering on a precipice, before finding himself outside his master’s door, knocking before he could stop himself.

“Pet, this is a lovely surprise,” Jinn replied, closing the door behind Obi-Wan with it’s normal _shnick_ , but that somehow sounded more final than usual. Obi-Wan liked it when Jinn called him that - pet - it made him feel wanted, but even with that feeling, nerves clawed at him, leaving him biting his lip and doubtless looking foolish in the entrance to his master’s rooms; he was the one that had come here, after all. 

Jinn watched him with that gaze and that smirk, not offering Obi-Wan a lifeline, letting him squirm until Obi-Wan found something to say. 

“You tattoos,” came out of his mouth, and Obi-Wan knew he sounded like an idiot, but Jinn gave him an indulgent smile. “I, um, I’ve never really been able to look at them properly. So I was wondering if I...could?” Obi-Wan finished lamely. 

“If you wanted me to take off my shirt, you need only ask,” Jinn teased him and Obi-Wan blushed furiously. “Come here pet, you can look your fill,” Jinn said, stripping off his shirts like it was nothing - which is probably was to him, considering how often he did it when they were training - and sitting down on his couch, one arm resting along the back of it, body angled towards it.

Obi-Wan moved across the room, knowing that his nervousness was written in the jerkiness of his movements, nothing like the smooth glide Xanatos moved with; but Jinn didn’t seem to mind, smile widening when Obi-Wan sat in the place that was left for him, trying not to shiver as Jinn’s fingers reached from the back of the couch just far enough to stroke his arm. 

Finally, Obi-Wan looked at his tattoos, distracted for a moment from what he was really doing in his master’s rooms this late at night by just how breathtaking they were.Obi-Wan had seen them from afar, or while otherwise distracted many times by now, but up close and able to concentrate on them, they were breathtaking. Along his right up was a swirling sleeve, a sea creature covered with vibrant cyan scales and dusky purple finds spiralled in long turns up his arm, and all around it were waves and wind and flowers. 

At his shoulder the design spanned out, the water splashing out at the head of the sea creature forming, beautiful but terrible jaws and a face that was almost lost in the wind and entwined in vines, so like the ones on the box holding Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. The creature seemed like it was thrashing, though against what - the vines, the water or the wind - Obi-Wan wasn’t sure.

The other sleeve was different, and went up only to his elbow, tan designs drawn onto his skin, so that from a distance it barely looked like a tattoo at all, and just lighter and darker patches of skin. It branched out across his hand, patterns that looked at once regimented and natural as the currents of the force. Obi-Wan bit his lip as he marvelled at the beauty of it all, laid onto the strong, toned muscles of his long arms and chest. He wanted to touch it, and his master read him like a book. 

“Come a little closer, padawan, the detailing is exquisite,” he murmured, coaxing Obi-Wan with tattooed hands to shuffle nearer, until he was practically in his master’s lap - or at least, pressed close against him, Obi-Wan on his knees on the cushions, to better get closer. This close, the scales on the sea creature seemed almost to shimmer. “Would you like to touch?” Qui-Gon asked, Obi-Wan bit his lip again and nodded. 

In his head, Obi-Wan knew that the skin felt no different to Obi-Wan’s fingertips than any other patch of skin might, long healed from the artwork, and yet it felt different now, as his fingers skated along the lines of every piece of the tattoo, feeling electric with every touch. His master let him, left him to his explorations even when his fingers traced along the patterns on his pectoral, Obi-Wan blushing as his master’s nipple hardened, his fingers pausing in their path.

“Pet, did you really come here to look at my tattoos?” Jinn asked, voice low and gravelly, Obi-Wan shook his head nervously. “Then I want you to be a good boy, and tell me why you’re really here.” Jinn’s hand had found its way to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, was playing with the hair there. 

“I, I wanted your help, master?” Obi-Wan said, whispered, as if that made it easier to admit to. 

“Oh, with what?”

“With some of the things you ask me to do.”

“Are you having trouble meditating, sweet one?” Jinn teased, Obi-Wan knew he was teasing from the way he was smiling, he knew what Obi-Wan meant but wanted him to say it. Obi-Wan gnawed at his lip, he wanted to be good.

“No, with the other thing.”

“But we do so much together…?”

“Master,” Obi-Wan whined, burying his red face in his master’s shoulder for a moment, until he was coaxed back into looking at Jinn’s hungry expression. 

“Tell me, pet,” Jinn said, voice firm and Obi-Wan struggled to make the words form, even though he knew Qui-Gon would be proud of him for it, would like him to say it. In the end he leant forward, tucked his head into his master’s neck - easier to say these things when he didn’t have to look - and pressed an unpracticed, chaste kiss to his master’s jaw. 

“I don’t know if I’m touching myself right, will you help me?” Obi-Wan asked in a small voice, and Jinn’s hand tightened on his neck for a moment, but when he spoke his voice was calm. 

“Hmm, does your little cock come when you touch yourself?” He asked, Obi-Wan was relieved he had let him keep his face hidden in his neck. 

“Yes,” he nodded, sure that his master could feel how hot his face was. 

“Then I think you’re doing it right my sweet, whatever makes you feel good. Why do you think you’re doing it wrong?”

“Because I don’t really touch myself,” Obi-Wan admitted to what he knew his master was already well aware of. 

“Oh, and what do you do instead?” Jinn teased, hand move from the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, now running slowly up and down his back, occasionally teasing at the small strip of skin between his trousers and shirts. 

“I-I hump against a pillow,” Obi-Wan admitted, feeling humiliated even as his cock started to get stiff in his pants. 

“You really are the sweetest little thing, aren’t you?” Jinn teased, making Obi-Wan’s shame burn brighter and cock get harder. “Do you ever wrap your hand around you cock?”

“Sometimes. Feels dirty,” Obi-Wan replied, shivering when Qui-Gon’s fingers started dipping lower, teasing at the waistband of his underwear beneath his pants, his cock aching. 

“Hmm, that feels dirty, but you play with your hole, don’t you? Ever since I asked.”

“Sometimes,” Obi-Wan squeaked. “Wanted to be good.”

“You’re _very_ good pet, but don’t tell me lies now, you don’t just do it for me, do you?” Jinn asked, and Obi-Wan shook his head into his master’s neck. “No, why else do you do it?”

“I like it.”

“You like having something in your tight little hole?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan corrected himself, trying to burrow closer to his master, one of his knees moving without real though until he was straddling one of his master’s thighs, gasping as his cock pressed against him. 

“Are you excited, pet?”

“Yes master.”

“Good, you’ve got me all hard as well, but I want to make you feel good first, do you want that too?”

“Please.”

“You wanted me to help you learn how to touch yourself?” Obi-Wan nodded, still in the safety of the crook of his master’s neck. “Well I think first I need to see for myself what you like to do on your own.”

“Master?”

“Here pet,” Jinn said, getting Obi-Wan to settle more firmly against him, over one thigh with his cock pressing against his master’s hip, face snug in his neck. “Now, show me what you like to do to your pillows when you’re alone.”

His face burned, but his cock was so hard Obi-Wan was helpless to do anything but what he was told, rocking his hips into his master and gasping, the sensation so much more than one of his pillows, his master’s body so much firmer, and everything feeling exponentially heightened, making him rock desperately after only a few seconds, failing to stifle a moan. 

“Oh you’re so responsive, so _untouched_ ,” Jinn purred, holding Obi-Wan tighter and encouraging him to hitch his hips faster. “And while you do this, do you play with your hole?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t speak, whining when he tried to open his mouth, reduced to nodding instead. His master chuckled at him, he murmured something low and dirty that Obi-Wan didn’t catch because he was too distracted by the feeling of his fingers snaking inside his underwear. 

Obi-Wan knew that the press of one of Qui-Gon’s thick fingers at his hole was only supposed to be a tease, but it rang through his body like a shockwave and Obi-Wan could do nothing to stop the way he shouted and rubbed against his master, body quaking as his cock came in desperate, eager spurts inside his pants as Obi-Wan panted _master, master_ over and over again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan whined, burning with shame when he regained some control, even as Qui-Gon’s hand petted his lower back. “I know it was too fast, I’m not very good,” Obi-Wan sniffed, embarrassed enough that tears were welling in his eyes, too overwhelmed to know how to try and suppress them. 

“Hush pet, you’re perfect, my perfect sweet boy. You’ve made your clothes all messy but they can be washed, just like your pillow. Did that feel good?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said as his master wiped away the couple of tears that had managed to spill. 

“Better than on your own?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now pet, just because your greedy little cock has already come, doesn’t mean you can’t still learn, does it?”

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked, confused, head fuzzy with his climax. 

“I think the way you like to hump against things is _perfect_ , but would you like to learn how to stroke my cock pet?” Jinn purred, taking one of Obi-Wan’s hands and guiding it over to the large bulge in his suit pants, making Obi-Wan flush scarlet all over again and nod eagerly. “Good boy.”

As he praised him, Jinn unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out from his underwear, and Obi-Wan made a new noise, humiliating even to his own ears as he whined at the sight of Jinn’s cock. It was big, so much bigger than Obi-Wan’s own in both girth and length, it was heavy and flushed red, the foreskin pulled back, and large enough that it struggled to stand on its own, unlike the way Obi-Wan’s own cock pressed up against his belly when he was excited. 

“Give me your hand pet,” Jinn said, and Obi-Wan was helpless to do anything but obey, mouth watering though he wasn’t sure why. His master’s cock was hot to touch, and too big in his hand, unable to get his hand all the way around it and he looked up with wide eyes at his master, worried he was doing it wrong already. 

Jinn wrapped his own hand around Obi-Wan’s dwarfing him and guiding him and stroking himself with Obi-Wan’s hand, Obi-Wan watching with fascination as the foreskin pulled up and the head disappeared beneath their hands on the upstroke. His master encouraged him to grip him tighter, move his hand faster, and Obi-Wan squeezed lightly at the head of his cock. Jinn groaned, released his hand and Obi-Wan worried that he’d done something wrong. 

“I’m sorry I -”

“Shh pet, you’ve not done anything wrong. Come here,” Qui-Gon interrupted his thoughts, pulling Obi-Wan into a kiss that was altogether tender and utterly consuming. 

Jinn kissed like he sparred, with fervour and without mercy, claiming Obi-Wan’s inexperienced mouth like he would never allow anyone else to touch it, hsii tongue pressing between Obi-Wan’s lips and into his mouth as Obi-Wan whined and struggled to keep up. Eventually, when Obi-Wan was out of breath and sure he had messed up at least three times, Jinn pulled back, cupping Obi-Wan’s chin and pressed his thumb against his lower lip. 

“Was that your first kiss, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, no tease in his voice as he pressed another chaste kiss against Obi-Wan’s lips as he nodded. “Such a sweet mouth. Now I want you to lick your hand, can you do that for me? Make it nice and wet so it feels good on my cock.”

Obi-Wan blushed hard but did as he was asked, lapping at his hand until it was slick before wrapping it back around his master’s cock as far as it would go, relieved when Qui-Gon’s hand joined his, showed him how to stroke, led their movements. 

“Good boy,” Qui-Gon praised, and Obi-Wan whined from the back of his throat, held his master’s cock a little firmer, preening when he groaned with pleasure. 

His master showed him what he liked, how to thumb at the slit in the tip of his cock, where and when to squeeze, how fast to go, all the while murmuring filth into Obi-Wan’s ear, interspersed with praise, the combination nearly making him dizzy. He wondered if he should tell his master that he felt like he wanted to lick at his cock, but felt embarrassed by it, and kept the idea to himself. 

“Fuck,” his master grunted as he sped up their strokes. “Now I don’t want to make a mess of my nice suit,” he said, voice strained as he used Obi-Wan hand to stroke his cock faster and faster. “So you need to catch all my come in that pretty little hand of yours, understand pet?”

“Y-yes master,” Obi-Wan said, feeling flushed and hot even so soon from his own climax and worrying if he’d be in trouble if he spilt any. But his master was still guiding his hand and knew his own orgasm, helping Obi-Wan to cup his hand over the head of his cock and catch his release, as his other hand jacked his cock through his orgasm. 

His master came more than Obi-Wan did, and his hand filled up with the sticky, warm come, making his permanently heated cheeks colour even more. He watched, hypnotised, as Jinn’s cock began to soften and his master sprawled out a little, relaxed from his pleasure. 

“What should I do with it?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling silly for asking the question even when his master’s hand returned to petting his back. 

“You can go and wash your hands if you like, or, if you’re feeling very _very_ good, and perhaps a little naughty, you can lick it up,” Jinn murmured and Obi-Wan worried at his lip again. It felt dirty, even after everything, but he also wanted to taste it, just like he had wanted to lick at his cock earlier, and with a hesitate movement, Obi-Wan brought his hand up to his mouth and lapped at the come. 

He wrinkled his nose at first, and his master’s groan turned into a chuckle. The taste was strange, completely new to Obi-Wan, even after all the new flavours Qui-Gon had been feeding him. It was salty and bitter and not nice really, yet Obi-Wan decided that he liked it anyway, and happily cleaned it all from his hand with his tongue, after which his master dragged him into another long kiss. 

“I like it when you kiss me,” Obi-Wan said without much thought, his master smiled at him. 

“Good, I intend to do it often. Did you have fun, pet?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied, feeling sleepy all of a sudden, voice soft. 

“Good, are your clothes a little uncomfortable now, from where your little cock came?” He asked, and Obi-Wan nodded, finding it embarrassing. “Then let's get you out of them, hmm. We can put them in the wash.”

Obi-Wan nodded again, unable to stop his happy noises as his master undressed him and carried him to the edge of the bed, leaving him drifting there until he returned with a wet washcloth and made Obi-Wan blush and avert his eyes as his master cleaned him up, wiping the come from his cock and chuckling at Obi-Wan when even in his tired state, his cock got a little chubby at the attention. 

He was glad when Qui-Gon didn’t send him back to his own room, instead tucking him in under the covers and slipping in beside him, curling around him and holding him close until he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the Horn! I wonder what they'll get up to next chapter!!! (jks i know full well what they're gunna do RIP obi wan)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning lads the next five or so chapters are basically just porn, i’ll return to pretending there's a story going on as well after i promise?? Also the chapter estimate has increased, mainly because of porn ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> YOUR COMMENTS, OH MY GOD, S L A Y M E , SCRIBE THEM ONTO MY G R A V E 
> 
> This chapter is porny but i don't think there's anything you need to be forewarned about except the subspace maybe?

The first thing Obi-Wan really registered, when he was still drifting in that soft, liminal space between waking and sleeping, was how warm he was, cocooned in the blankets of his bed aboard his master’s ship he was never cold; but he was especially warm this morning. 

He faintly realised he was naked, odd for him as he always slept in his pyjamas, but perhaps he got hot in the night. Obi-Wan snuggled down deeper in the bedding, wriggling around and realising that his cock was a little stiff as it rubbed against the sheets, he wondered what sort of dream he’d been having to cause it, and wished he could remember. 

Not yet conscious enough to feel his usual embarrassment about his state, Obi-Wan let himself rock his cock into the sheets and his bottom back into the hard, warm thing pressed up against his back while he made soft little sounds that he figured were quiet enough that he didn’t think he needed to try and muffle them. 

He was nearly dozing again into the comfort of his movements, humming to himself, when he was startled by a hand gripping his rolling hip and he woke up and remembered in a rush that he wasn’t in his own bed, and was currently rubbing his bare bottom against his master’s equally bare and hardening cock. 

“What a lovely way to wake up, pet,” Jinn murmured, voice rough with sleep/ 

“Master! I’m sorry, I - I didn’t realise where I was,” Obi-Wan said, voice trailing off into a mutter as his face heated with that familiar shame that did nothing to soften his cock - usually causing quite the opposite, which only made him feel _more_ shame. 

“Thought that you were in your own room with your naughtly pillows did you pet?” Jinn teased and shifted behind Obi-Wan, still on his side but propping himself up on one arm so that he could drop kisses to Obi-Wan’s neck, the hand on his hip moving, making Obi-Wan’s breath hitch as Jinn’s fingers started carding through the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. 

“N-no,” Obi-Wan lied, his cock jerking just from how close his master’s hand was, and Jinn laughed a low chuckle.

“Liar,” he murmured, dropping another kiss to Obi-Wan’s heated skin before pulling back, rutting his cock against Obi-Wan rear and running a single finger up the underside of Obi-Wan’s desperate cock, making him moan and his cock leak against his belly. 

He squirmed as his master’s finger continued to his tip and spread through the wetness there, pooling steadily. He had barely touched his own cock with his bare hands, and now having his master’s on him, even just the pad of one finger playing with him so lightly, make Obi-Wan’s nerves feel like they were on fire, completely helpless to stop his hips from jerking towards the touch, cock drooling more sticky wetness onto his skin as his master rubbed it into his skin. 

“You’re little cock is wet,” Jinn murmured, rubbing his fingers around the head of Obi-Wan’s cock to make it dribble more. “I’ve never seen someone get as wet as you.” Obi-Wan’s skin prickled and he squirmed with new shame; should he not be so wet? Was it wrong? But with the way his master was still running his fingertip through it and spreading it about on Obi-Wan’s skin, he thought maybe he liked it. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan whined, he tried to hold on to Jinn’s wrist, make him touch him more, but Jinn slapped his hand lightly - though it sent a thrill through Obi-Wan’s entire body - and Obi-Wan quickly moved his hand away, back to where it was supposed to be.

“Be patient little one, aren’t jedi supposed to be patient?” He teased, and Obi-Wan flushed even redder. “Be a good boy and keep your hands still for me pet.”

“Sorry master.”

“It’s okay, you’re so new to this you didn’t know, but now that I’ve asked you you’re going to be good aren’t you,” his master cooed and Obi-Wan nodded quickly. His master’s big cock hard and nestled at Obi-Wan’s back, his fingers still massaging the head of Obi-Wan’s cock to make it leak. “You’re close to coming aren’t you pet, even though I’ve hardly touched your wet little cock.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admitted, embarrassed blush spreading down to his chest. “‘M sorry, I - _ah_ , I know I’m too fast.”

“It’s not your fault, you’ve barely been touched, even by your own hands. I like that, that mine are the only hands you know, I like how responsive and desperate you are, can you feel how much I like it pet?” Jinn purred, using his other hand to hold his own cock and rub it teasingly between Obi-Wan’s cheeks, making him dizzy with how badly he wanted it, even if how big it felt against his hole made him nervous. 

Obi-Wan tried to answer him but couldn’t find any words only whining and trying his hardest not to rut back desperately as his master stopped rubbing his fat cock at his hole, returning his attention instead back to Obi-Wan’s cock more fully. Shifting Obi-Wan slightly - and doing it easily, as if Obi-Wan weighed nothing at all - Jinn moved them so that Obi-Wan was pulled up against his chest and his master could slip his other arm around Obi-Wan. 

His master made him gasp wehn from this position Jinn could still run the pad of one finger over his leaking cock, while his other hand went lower and gently traced his fingertips around Obi-Wan’s sac, cupping and rolling them in his hand, making a low, pleased sound when it made Obi-Wan’s cock drool even more wetness.

“Have you ever touched your tight little balls pet?”

“N-no,” Obi-Wan answered, he felt on the edge, being touched so intimately, the first time he had had someone else's' hands on him - and that they were his master’s big strong hands. He knew that really his master had barely touched him, that he shouldn’t be ready to spill already, but he couldn’t help it, gasped and gnawed at his lip as his master toyed with his balls, wondering if he should warn him that he was going to embarrass himself again, but not being able to make the words form. 

“I’d ask if it feels good, but this wet little cock of yours is telling me loud and clear,” Jinn teased, thumbing at the sloppy head of his cock and squeezing Obi-Wan sensitive balls, making them draw up tight to his body. “You’re about to come, I can feel it. Oh pet, I’m going to have to get you a ring, aren’t I? Do you know what I mean by ring?” Jinn asked, Obi-Wan shook his head. “It goes around the base of this greedy little cock and it holds it tight, so that you can’t come until I _let you_.” Jinn illustrated his words by squeezing his fingers in a tight ring around the base of Obi-Wan’s cock, probably the only thing that stopped him from coming from his master’s words alone as he gasped. 

“Master, please,” Obi-Wan begged, and Jinn loosened his grip, trailing a finger back up the underside of Obi-Wan’s stiff cock and laughing at how wet the tip had gotten again. 

“Please what, pet?” Jinn asked, dropping a kiss to Obi-Wan’s neck before nibbling at his ear. Obi-Wan squirmed knowing his master wanted him to say it, and he wanted to be good. 

“Touch me,” Obi-Wan whined, burning with shame and turning his face to hide it in Qui-Gon’s broad chest as best he could. 

“I am touching you pet.”

“M-more.”

“More, more where?”

“On my cock,” Obi-Wan whimpered, nearly thrashing in Jinns grip when his master did wrap his big hand around his cock as pleasure washed over him. His master didn’t struggle with the girth like Obi-Wan did when he held Jinn’s cock, it fit neatly in his hand, just the head peeking out from the circle of Jinn’s hand. 

“Lets see shall we little one, I don’t think you’re going to last four strokes of my hand, what do you think?” His master murmured, not waiting for an answer as he stroked Obi-Wan’s cock in a firm grip, chuckling as Obi-Wan moaned loudly and bucked into his hold. 

He tried to hold off his orgasm to temper his own embarrassment, but his master was right and it only took three until Obi-Wan was crying out and his cock shooting come up his chest, spasming as his master milked every drop from him, only letting go of his hypersensitive cock when Obi-Wan was near tears from sensitivity. He set Obi-Wan back down in the bed petting his skin absently and making Obi-Wan flush when he ran a finger through the mess and licked it off his finger. 

“Master!”

“Hmm, you taste sweet pet, here,” Jinn said, running the same finger back through the mess and pressing it to Obi-Wan’s lips, and Obi-Wan was helpless to do anything but open his mouth, Jinn’s eyes going dark when he sucked a little on his finger. He thought his master tasted better, but could get addicted to the covetous look in his master’s eyes.

Jinn climbed out of bed then, Obi-Wan feeling bereft at the loss, but he came back quickly with a washcloth in one hand. His big cock was hard and hanging heavily between his legs, it made his mouth water just like it had the night before, and Obi-Wan felt guilty, for getting his master so excited and then lying lazily in the bed, and when Qui-Gon finished cleaning up his chest, Obi-Wan shuffled into a sitting position, his knees bunched up under him as his master sat back against the headboard, watching him with that smile as Obi-Wan fidgeted. 

He felt nervous, he wanted to touched his master’s cock, but this wasn’t like the night before, and Jinn wasn’t giving him any instruction, just watching him with an amused expression. Obi-Wan let one of his hands rest on Jinn’s arm as he plucked up the courage to look at his cock without trying to hide, his master didn’t mind, he _knew_ his master didn’t mind if he looked, but it still embarrassed him. 

He was just so much _bigger_ than Obi-Wan, and he didn’t understand the way his mouth was watering, or the almost suffocating desire he had to put his master’s cock in his mouth - a desire that was growing so strong the longer he sat there it very nearly drowned out the shame of it. Finally, Jinn wrapped a hand around himself and stroked, fixing Obi-Wan with a heady look.

“Do you remember what I showed you last night, pet?” Jinn asked, Obi-Wan barely able to look away from his cock, licking his lips without realising it until the motion was already underway. Obi-Wan nodded, and forced himself to look up at his master. 

“Yes, master,” he replied, squirming on his knees. 

“Good boy, can you stroke my cock for me then?”

“I, I want to…” Obi-Wan trailed off, the hand on Jinn’s arm traced one of the patterns as he looked away, face heating until Jinn forced his attention back with a firm hand on his chin. 

“What do you want?”

“Feels dirty, I shouldn’t want to,” Obi-Wan worried, unable to stop thinking about licking his master’s cock, putting his mouth on him and sucking. Surely that couldn’t be normal, it was so filthy his master would probably be disgusted with him, but then Qui-Gon let go of his cock to coax Obi-Wan a little close, rub comforting circles in his skin. 

“Now you have to tell me pet, I want to know what naught things you want to do,” his master encouraged and Obi-Wan found it hard to disobey him in that moment, feeling a little soft and out of sorts from his orgasm, the way his desire was heating again at the sight of his master’s cock, how gentle Jinn was being with him. 

“I’m embarrassed.”

“You’re always embarrassed, it’s a good look on you,” Qui-Gon teased. “Come on pet, be a good boy and tell me what dirty thoughts you’re having.”

“I want to lick your cock master,” Obi-Wan blurted, hiding his face in his hands for a moment before Jinn tugged them away, his face unreadable “I’m sorry I know it’s dirty.”

“It’s _very_ dirty pet, I didn’t know you had such a filthy little mind. How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since I saw how big you were.”

“You saw my cock and wanted to put your hungry little mouth on it?”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan squirmed, wishing his master would at least let him hide his flaming face again. 

“Hmm well, you were a very good boy last night, and you’re being very good this morning, aren’t you? So I think as a reward I can let you explore with that greedy mouth of yours.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan asked, his still-sensitive cock trying to perk up at the idea of having permission to lick at his master. 

“Yes pet,” his master purred and Obi-Wan’s limbs were uncoordinated as he struggled to work out where to put himself to reach Jinn’s cock, until he was manhandled between Jinn’s legs, on all fours with his mouth near that fat cock. Jinn wrapped his hand back around his shaft and let it rest in his hand, easier for Obi-Wan to reach as a fresh wave of shame washed over him. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered even as saliva gathered in his mouth. 

“Show me what you think about doing,” Jinn relied, voice rough, and Obi-Wan lent forward and placed a kiss at the tip of his master’s cock, gathering up the wetness there on his tongue - so much less than Obi-Wan - as his master groaned. 

Bolstered by the noise, and the idea that his master wasn’t just indulging him, that Obi-Wan’s dirty thing was nice for him too, he got a little braver and licked his tongue over the head of his cock, humming happily to himself at the taste. Ducking in again, Obi-Wan ran his tongue over Jinn’s thick shaft from root to tip, licking at it like one of the icy treats his master bought him at the carnival on Olserra. 

“Are you having fun, pet?” Jinn asked, but his voice was strained as he carded his hand through Obi-Wan’s hair. 

“Yes master,” he nodded, not moving far away from his cock, hardly stopping his lapping to answer

“Good boy, now, why don’t you try sucking on it, hmm? Put the head of my cock in your sweet little mouth and suck on it like one of your lollys,” Jinn suggested, his voice a low rumble in his chest and Obi-Wan was quick to obey. 

His master helped him, holding the base of his big cock steady for Obi-Wan’s mouth, so that he could take the head into his mouth, so soft and hard at the same time. Obi-Wan moaned as he did it, nearly not hearing his master’s answering sounds of pleasure over his own as he started suckling on the head with wet little sounds. 

“You’re doing so well, little one, making me feel so good. Do you think you take a little more of my cock into your sweet mouth?” His master asked, hand that wasn’t steadying his own cock cupping the back of Obi-Wan’s head and stroking the hair there, reluctantly Obi-Wan pulled back so that he could speak, licking his lips. 

“You’re really big,” he replied dubiously. 

“I know pet, but just a little more? It feels so good in your dirty mouth, I’m so glad you told me about your fantasy.”

“Maybe a little,” Obi-Wan agreed, he was enjoying suckling at the head of his master’s cock, felt like he could have done it for hours, but he did wonder what it would feel like to try and put more in his mouth. 

“Good boy, try to cover your teeth with your lips so you don’t hurt me,” his master instructed and Obi-Wan did as he was told. He had to stretch his mouth wide just to get the head in his mouth, and as he went down lower and took more cock into his mouth he felt his mouth stretching obscenely, but he liked the way it felt, made his cock get feel achy as it got hard again while he was still too sensitive. 

He pulled back, shuffled to get more comfortable, and put his mouth on his master again, this time bobbing his head a bit as Jinn’s hand gently guided his head in the movement. He was uncoordinated and sloppy, spit running down his chin with how much he was drooling around the fat cock in his mouth, but _force_ he liked it. 

He liked the physical feeling of his master filling up his mouth, the musky taste of his cock, how hot and hard he was, but how delicate the skin was, the way his mouth had to stretch too wide. But he also liked the way it made him feel, his own cock hard and desperate again, getting so excited that his master had let him do this, was letting him having his naughty fantasy, and also the power he felt like Jinn had over him. The hand on his head was gentle, but Obi-Wan almost wished it would take control. 

He realised that the way Jinn was guiding his cock in and out of Obi-Wan’s mouth was a little like if Jinn was inside his hole instead, and he whimpered around his mouthful and sucked a little harder, making his master groan and hold his hair tighter. Obi-Wan shivered and did it again, taking his master as far as he could until he felt like he might choke - and knowing that this wasn’t even half of his master’s big cock made his own cock pulse, wondering if there was any way he could learn to take more. 

He wished he had one of his pillows he could rub his cock against while he sucked on his master, but he couldn’t lie down on the bedding, his master’s cock too big for him to reach easily without being up on all fours. He got too greedy and took his master too deep, backing off quickly as he coughed, his master soothing him with a hand on his cheek, rubbing at his wet, swollen lips. 

“I’m sorry, can I suck on you a little more?” Obi-Wan asked, back to squirming, hoping that his choking hadn’t ruined it for his master, but he could hardly see the yellow of his master’s eyes, his pupils were so dilated, and he rested a thumb on Obi-Wan’s bottom lip, slipping it into his mouth which he instinctively sucked on. 

“Of course pet, you’re being so good, you’re going to make me come. You’re being such a good, dirty boy, will you let me come in that pretty mouth?” His master asked, stroking his cock as he spoke, Obi-Wan impatient to get it back in his mouth nodded and spoke quickly as he was sinking back down. 

“Yes master that sounds nice,” he hummed, blushing as his master laughed at him, but ignoring the tinge of embarrassment the sound brought in favour of bobbing his head on Jinn’s cock again. 

The hand in his hair was tighter again, and his master’s hips were moving slightly, as if he was stopping himself from pushing his cock up into Obi-Wan’s mouth, which sent a little thrill through him and made him moan around the cock in his mouth and suck a little more desperately on the head. It had his master gripping his hair hard as the hand that had been stroking the lower half of his cock stuttered, and suddenly his master’s salty come was flooding into his mouth. 

It surprised Obi-Wan, and some of it shot to the back of his throat, making him pull off and cough again, the rest of his master’s come landing in warm stripes across his face. Obi-Wan used all the breathing control he knew to stop coughing as quickly as he could so that he could go back to suckling at the head, his master stroking his cock and squeezing out the last drops of hsi come onto Obi-Wan’s tongue until he finally pulled him off his cock as it softened. 

“Such a good boy, and look, you’re all dirty, just like you thought,” his master teased, making Obi-Wan pout even as his master pushed some of the come on Obi-Wan’s face into his mouth, Obi-wan sucking at his fingers before finding the wash cloth and cleaning Obi-Wan’s face more fully. “And look, your little cock is all hard and wet again, did you get excited by being so dirty?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan admitted, filling with shame that made his cock ache again. 

“Oh pet, you’re so innocent aren’t you. You think you just did something so dirty, don’t you?” Jinn teased, lifting Obi-Wan up and settling him with his back against the headboard.

“Yes?”

“No sweet thing, lots of people do that, though you’re special for liking it so much.”

“But you let me think…” Obi-Wan trailed off, feeling silly and vulnerable, relieved when two big hands rubbed at his shoulders and a pair of lips met his in a deep kiss. 

“I’m sorry pet, you were just so sweet and innocent, I couldn’t help myself.”

“‘S’not nice,” Obi-Wan pouted, though he felt the feelings abating as Jinn kissed him and one of his master’s hands found his cock for the second time that morning. 

“No, but I will make it up to you little one. Would you like it if I sucked your cock now, likc you did so well for me?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan felt a thrill go through him, though he then felt nervous, knowing what would happen. 

“Y-yes but-”

“But?”

“I’ll just come too fast again.”

“I don’t mind, you’re still so new at this and it only means you feel good, doesn’t it. As a special treat I’ll even let you come in my mouth today, like you did for me, do you want that?” His master asked, as if the way his cock jerked and drool wetness wasn’t answer enough, Obi-Wan nodded his head quickly. 

“Yes, please master,” Obi-Wan whimpered, his cock excited just at the idea of being in his master’s mouth. 

Jinn smiled that slow teasing smile at him again, and tugged Obi-Wan until he was lying flat on his back. He curled around him. One hand firm on Obi-Wan’s hip, the other sliding underneath the small of his back and holding him in a firm, unshakable grip. His master didn’t give him time to get ready before swallowing Obi-Wan’s cock, so much smaller than his master’s he was able to get almost all of it in his mouth easily and Obi-Wan wailed. 

He understood the hold his master had on him when his whole body spasmed, his hips pushing against his iron-hold to try and get his cock even deeper but meeting firm resistance. He felt on fire, giddy, his master’s mouth was overwhelming and coordinated in his movements where Obi-Wan had been a sloppy mess. He sucked as he pulled up and massaged Obi-Wan with his tongue which he also swirled around the leaking tip of his cock, and took Obi-Wan deep, until he was completely instead his master’s mouth, his cock head caught in the tight clutch of his throat for seconds that drove Obi-Wan wild. 

After less than a minute he was crying out, his master pulling back and sucking hard at the head of his cock, one of his hands stroking Obi-Wan’s cock as he spilled into his master’s mouth in needy, jerky spurts. His master didn’t cough like Obi-Wan had, and when Obi-Wan had finished, he caged Obi-Wan beneath his body and kissed him deeply. 

Obi-Wan squeaked as his master pushed his own released into Obi-Wan’s mouth, his come still warm and mixed with the taste of his master as Jinn kissed him. A big hand rested on his throat, stroked over his adam’s apple, encouraging him to swallow what his master had fed him, and Obi-Wan did so diligently. 

“So perfect,” Jinn murmured between soft kisses. “Do you feel nice and relaxed now, pet?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan breathed, feeling like not a single bone in his body was made from anything but jelly. 

“And do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan breathed, filled with the truth of it, at least when encased in his master’s big bed.

“Good. I am going to do something I think you’ll like.”

“Master?”

“Lie on your front pet, knees under your stomach.”

“But my bottom will be in the air,” Obi-Wan said, dumbly, realising when Jinn chuckled at him that _obviously_ his master new this, and wanted him like that, but his thoughts were moving slow and being difficult to catch, like he was trying to move through low gravity. 

“Yes pet,” there was a smile in his master’s words. “That is the point,” he said, a hand splayed on Obi-Wan’s back as he shifted like his master had asked, trying to get his tired arms and legs to do as they were told, relieved when his master helped him.

“Sorry, my head feels funny,” Obi-Wan sighed, and Qui-Gon’s hands still on him for a moment.

“Good funny?” He asked, hands not stroking Obi-Wan’s bottom, massaging his cheeks.

“Mmmm, yeah,” Obi-Wan breathed. “Feels nice.”

“Good, you tell me if it starts to feel bad instead,” Jinn instructed, and Obi-Wan nodded sleepily, trying to hold on to the instruction, lest it slipped away like everything else; his master’s voice made his sound important. He jumped a little, startled, when he felt his master’s breath against his hole. 

“M-master?” He asked, hsi body wanted to tense but didn’t have the energy to do it. 

“Hush pet, and relax, you’re going to enjoy it,” his master said, before Obi-Wan felt a kiss being pressed to his hole.

Jinn kissed at his hole and it was nothing like Obi-Wan’s fingers had felt. He was burning up with both embarrassment and arousal as Jinn pressed increasingly open kissed against his tight hole, his cock hurt with how recently he had come but how desperately it was getting hard again already from the feeling of that mouth on him, his master’s beard rubbing against the sensitive skin there. 

From kisses Jinn changed to licking at him, , running the flat of his tongue over Obi-Wan’s hole, making the skin there wet and warm until it started to relax more, Obi-Wan’s body changing its tune, from trying to keep his tongue out, to wanting _more_ of it. But his master took his time, lapping at Obi-Wan as he held his cheeks open wit his hands, making Obi-Wan feel vulnerable.

“Master!” Obi-Wan whined, breath coming hard already, his cock hurt with how quickly it was hard again, but it also felt good, and when his master pressed his tongue _inside_ his hole Obi-Wan felt lost, collapsing down onto his shoulders, face mashed into his master’s pillows. 

He could hardly think, feeling like his master was unpicking Obi-Wan from his very mind as he fucked his tongue inside his hole, reducing Obi-Wan to nothing but nerve endings and feeling. His eyes were rolling back as his master fucked his tongue into Obi-Wan’s hole, he wanted to scrabble his hands at the bedding, but his body wasn’t listening to him, boneless just like his mind was getting increasingly thoughtless, until all that was left was _yes yes master please master more_ , though he wasn’t sure if anything made it out his mouth as more than a garbled moan. 

His master licked into him, pushing at Obi-Wan’s tight rim until it started to give, and every time his master pulled away for air, his hole felt a little looser, until he was sloppy with his master’s spit and he felt more open than he had ever been. It caught him off guard and he whimpered helplessly, when his cock started spurting into the bedding as his master worked his tongue inside his hole. 

He pulled back when Obi-Wan started sniffing, eyes welling with tears he didn’t really understand but didn’t feel completely bad, his entire body felt like a livewire, sending conflicting signals everywhere as his cock struggled through a third orgasm too quickly. 

“Oh pet, did you come again?” His master asked, voice soft and big hands stroking his hips, easing him onto his back and away from the mess he’s made. A kiss was pressed to his lips that he wanted to return but his body wouldn’t move. “Sweet boy, yes, you’ve had enough for now,” his master murmured, almost as if he was talking more to himself, but Obi-Wan with his slow brain couldn’t quite work out what he meant - maybe that he was done licking Obi-Wan for now. He hoped he did it again some day.

“Will you fuck me now master,” Obi-Wan asked, out of breath and spent, but his hole felt loose and he was so desperate for his master’s cock inside him, but Jinn just laughed that low rolling chuckle at him, and kiss his way up Obi-Wan’s chest.

“Oh no pet, you need more than me eating out your pretty little hole before that.”

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, struggling to form words and trying to squirm back into his master, craving the contact.

“I need to train you for my cock pet, for your tight virgin hole to be able to take me.”

“Train me how?” Obi-Wan asked as his master kissed at his neck, his head felt like it was misty and like he was untethered and drifting, as if he was in a particularly deep meditation, that he wasn’t sure how to swim out of.. 

“I’m going to play with your hole every morning and every night until you’re ready,” his master purred, kissing away his hitched breaths. “So you’re going to have to be patient, although, there are plenty of other things I plan to do to you in the meantime.”

“What things?”

“Hmm, you’re going to have to wait and see, aren’t you pet, you’re too far gone for anything right now,” his master said, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what he meant, but he felt far away, glad for how tightly his master was holding him, for fear that he might somehow disappear otherwise.

His master lay with him in that tight hold for a long time, Obi-Wan falling between dozing and waking to squirm closer to Qui-Gon, as if he wasn’t already as close as he could get. Qui-Gon always held him tighter when he tried, like an anchor tethering him close. He hummed and kissed lazily at whatever bit of Qui-Gon’s skin he could reach. He found himself sucking on his master’s fingers for a little while, unsure how they had got there, and pouted when after a while, his master pulled them free and stroked his hair instead

“Are you letting your hair grow, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, voice barely above a whisper, as if he were trying to coax Obi-Wan out from somewhere he was hiding, even though he was right there. He was able to card his fingers more fully through Obi-Wan’s hair than he had been before, tugging gently on the slightly longer tuft that would one day be a nerf tail. 

“Is that okay?”

“Hmm, I do like my sweet little padawan, so proper and perfect,” Jinn replied, his voice was teasing but Obi-Wan still tensed a little, he didn’t want to disappoint his master, but if he couldn’t grow his hair out a bit, then he would have nowhere to hide his braid. “You’re breaking lots of rules today.”

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan mumbled, suddenly hyper away of his nakedness, even bundled in the covers of his master’s bed. Jinn laughed at him, that low, slow laugh of his that Obi-Wan knew meant he was pleased, and sent his floaty feeling swimming back into his head. 

“So long as you stay my sweet little thing, you can do whatever you like with your hair,” Jinn replied, and Obi-Wan blushed, tucking closer into his chest and letting his eyes shut again, dozing for a little while longer, exhausted from their morning. He wasnt sure how much time passed before his master spoke again. “I need to go off-ship soon pet, there is business, you need to stay here,” his master said reluctantly, as he coaxed Obi-Wan from his nap, still naked and clinging to his master. 

“No,” he whined, feeling embarrassed for his neediness but not able to stop himself. 

“I am sorry.”

“Want you to stay,” Obi-Wan said, he didn’t even want to go with his master, he just wanted them both to stay right here, in this bed. 

“I have to go, but I will come back, and you can stay here all day if that’s what makes you happy, I can have one of the droids bring you some food, would you like that?”

“Okay,” Obi-wan mumbled, struggling through his syrupy mindn to remind himself not to be annoying when his master was already being so good to him, but unable to help his discontented whine when Qui-Gon slipped from the bed and began to dress. 

“Trust me pet, I would much rather stay,” Qui-Gon said, pulling on his dark clothes quickly, and tying up his hair before pausing at the side of the bed again, looking down at Obi-Wan in an unhappy heap in the covers. He looked concerned, though. “Here,” he said, slipping off his long black cloak and helping Obi-Wan move his fuzzy limbs until he was wrapped inside it. “I want you to wear this until I come back, okay pet?”

“Smells like you,” Obi-Wan commented, before realising it was was silly thing to say, as his master had only just taken it off, but Qui-Gon smiled at him.

“Yes, I thought you might like it. Now, you can be a lazy boy all day and stay right here if you want, or you can get up and do whatever you want, but I want you to keep my cloak on, understand?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan agreed, pulling it around himself more tightly, the material made for his master’s much larger frame swamping him. He thought he might stay here, he knew he should get up and be productive, that jedi didn’t waste days in bed, especially not after being naughty all morning, but his mind felt strange and his arms and legs too heavy,. 

“Good boy, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Jinn promised, cupping Obi-Wan’s chin and pulling him forward for a long indulgent kiss, before needlessly securing the cloak one last time, and sweeping out of the room. 

The door shut and Obi-Wan flopped back down into the bed, letting himself be cocooned by the scent, and the lingering warmth, of his master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> horny!! get a hold of yourselves! these chapters keep getting longer im scared!! (srsly tho thank you for reading i love each and every one of you <3)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The adventures of hoe-bi-wan kenobi continue. Warning for some light somno!
> 
> Also this chapter was 7K?? i realise you guys might see this as a good thing but my sleep schedule does not!! It's all your lovely comments spurring me on!! I cant help myself!!

Qui-Gon was glad when he returned that night to find his padawan fast asleep in the mess of bedding, still swaddled in his cloak. Partly because his hands were covered in blood and it gave him the opportunity to wash it away without his padawan seeing - lightsabers were elegant, but sometimes a more heavy handed approach was required to get a point across - and partly because he looked so sweet. 

In truth, he had been worried about leaving his padawan in such a state that morning, vulnerable and soft; slipping unexpectedly easily into subspace; he would have to be more vigilant in the future, and make sure he knew what Obi-Wan needed when he felt like that. 

But his padawan was fine it seemed, snoring lightly, with a little bit of drool slipping out his mouth. He was wearing nothing but his master’s cloak still, bundled up in the bedding, curled into a small ball, Qui-Gon knew that he could stare at the picture his padawan made for hours, but turned away reluctantly, needing to wash off his hands before Obi-Wan woke up. 

Stepping into the bathroom Qui-Gon turned on the tap, smearing blood around the handle and watching as the warm water washed his hands free of blood, swirling red down the drain until the water ran clear again. He had to clean off the tap as well, checked his nails closely for any caught under them, but was satisfied they were clean. 

Straightening up, he examined himself in the mirror, he saw that there were flecks of red on his jacket and scowled, it was one of his favourites. Quietly he commed one of the droids and left it outside the door to his rooms, to be collected and cleaned before Obi-Wan would have a chance to see it. 

He went back to the bathroom when he noticed a faint bruising on his knuckles, he barely noticed it, usually wouldn’t bother to deal with it at all, but his padawan was observant, and was bound to notice, so he rubbed some bacta gel into the telltale bruises so that they would be faded by morning. 

Satisfied there was no more evidence of his work for Obi-Wan to find on him, Qui-Gon went back into his bedroom, watching with a smile as his pet snuffled and snuggled down further in the bedding. He was glad to see empty trays and bowls, evidence that his padawan had eaten some food today, even if by the looks of things it had mostly been sweets. 

Qui-Gon cleared up the trays, leaving them outside to be collected along with his jacket before going back to watching his padawan sleep. He hadn’t doubted, at any point, that Obi-Wan would come to him eventually, so starved of touch, attention, and affection, he had known he wouldn’t be able to resist the promise of all three for long. But he had never imagined just how lovely he would be when he did come. 

There was the embarrassment and hesitation he had predicted, but it was wrapped in such eager innocence, unbridled desire, and such a strong need to please that Qui-Gon felt heady with it whenever Obi-Wan bit his lip and blushed. He had expected Obi-Wan to come to him, he had expected him to be desperate for it, but he hadn’t expected him to surrender so easily and so completely. 

Obi-Wan made a sweet little noise and Qui-Gon circled the bed, rolling up his sleeves carefully and watching, mesmerised, as his padawan shifted around in the bed, making more and more of those hums, sighs and whimpers, until Qui-Gon noticed the way his hips were rutting in little arrhythmic circles into the bedding and he smiled to himself. 

He moved and sat on the bed, back against the headboard and legs stretched out beside Obi-Wan, as close as he could get without risking waking his padawan. It had the effect he had hoped, and Obi-Wan gravitated towards the warmth of his body, pressing up against Qui-Gon, nuzzling his face into Qui-Gon’s hip. 

He used a light touch of the force to stop Obi-Wan being able to press his cock against him, his padawan making an unhappy noise as he lost his stimulation, but still seeming to be fast asleep. With another small application of the force, he untangled his cloak until he could see Obi-Wan’s little cock, already straining and wet against his stomach, Qui-Gon smirked and let the cloak tangle back around him, satisfied that his pet was already close to orgasm - not that he was ever that far away, he was so touch-starved. 

Curious, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and reached out for his padawan with the force, gently caressing Obi-Wan’s mind and trying to get a feel for the dream he was having. He pressed a finger to the crystal around Obi-Wan's neck, their connection deepening and allowing him the flash of an image from Obi-Wan’s dream. 

His cock was already stirring from seeing his padawan like this, but when saw himself in Obi-Wan’s mind fucking his padawan with deep, gentle thrusts, his cock ached, getting hard more quickly. The image was intoxicating, he dwarfed Obi-Wan even more in his dream than he did in reality, Obi-Wan’s mind exaggerating the already large difference in their size, and his innocent padawan had dreamed up such a sweet position. On his back, clinging to Qui-Gon’s shoulders as Qui-Gon fucked him, arms cradling his padawan as Obi-Wan’s shaking knees squeezed against his waist.

Qui-Gon could hardly remember the last time he’d fucked someone in such a tame position, he only ever took Xanatos from behind, and the random whores and willing bodies that came his way he never even undressed for, certainly never showed them to a real bed. With Obi-Wan though, he knew it would be in a bed, that the first time he took him he would have to be careful, treat him gently, just like in his dream. 

Obi-Wan made a little whimper, and he stopped pushing against the force hold so strongly, the image in his head beginning to fades away in his dream as his body was denied stimulation; and that simply would not do. He released the hold and with a gentle hand brushed lightly against his pet’s cock through the cloak, knowing that even such a small touch would be enough to get Obi-Wan desperate again, and gratified when he was right, Obi-Wan wriggling into his space and nudging one of his legs until it was over Qui-Gon’s and Obi-Wan’s instincts kicked back in, his beautiful pet rubbing against his leg.

Obi-Wan wouldn’t need any extra stimulation, but Qui-Gon could hardly help himself, and he knew his pet would enjoy it, so with another fine manipulation of the force, he applied a little pressure to Obi-Wan’s virgin hole, smiling as his padawan whimpered more loudly in his sleep, rutted more desperately into his leg.

Knowing his pet was close to coming, Qui-Gon set two of his fingers against Obi-Wan’s lips, which opened easily, naturally, as his pet started sucking on them desperately, and with a slight nudge at his hole, Obi-Wan was crying out sleepily and coming, dirtying up Qui-Gon’s robes making soft noises until his movements stopped and he relaxed boneless into the bedding, and against Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon removed his fingers from Obi-Wan’s mouth, even though he had continued suckling on them and he watched as Obi-Wan woke in increments, so slowly at first, and then all at once, shooting up as he realised the mess he had made in Qui-Gon’s cloak, and the position he had been in. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but smirk, laughing teasingly as Obi-Wan’s face flamed with shame.

“M-master! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I - I made a mess of your cloak,” his voice wobbled, and he looked mortified, as if Qui-Gon was actually going to tell him off for such a thing, as if Qui-Gon hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed it. 

“Hush pet,” Qui-Gon soothed, reaching out and encouraging Obi-Wan into his side, his padawan settled haltingly, but he did settle when coaxed. “I very much enjoyed coming back and finding you so excited.”

“I was rubbing against you wasn’t I?” Obi-Wan said, timid and shameful, if he were more awake, he would be able to work out that Qui-Gon had only got on the bed to achieve that very thing. 

“Yes pet, and it made me very happy.”

“It did?” Obi-Wan replied, perking up a little bit, but becoming bashful again when Qui-Gon caught his hand and pressed it over his hard cock, trapped in his clothes. Obi-Wan shuffled tucked in closer to hide his red face against Qui-Gon’s chest - a habit Obi-Wan was developing, that Qui-Gon found himself overly fond of - as his hand played at the fastenings on Qui-Gon’s pants. “Can I suck you again?”

“Later pet, I have other plans for you this evening,” Qui-Gon replied, chuckling at the way Obi-Wan’s shoulders sagged and he looked up at Qui-Gon with an expression very close to a pout.

“But I want to now,” he said, clearly without thought as the next moment he ducked his head and apologised again. 

“Usually I’d let you put my cock in that sweet mouth of yours whenever you liked, but today I want to take you in the shower with me first and finger that little hole of yours, does that sound nice?” Qui-Gon asked, stroking one hand over the perfect curve of Obi-Wan pert little ass. 

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied, squirming next to him as Qui-Gon idly petted his ass. “But…”

“But?”

“After can I?” Obi-Wan almost whispered, so embarrassed by his own words. 

“Can you what?” Qui-Gon asked, knowing perfectly well what his pet meant, but enjoying making him say it, watching him blush and fidget. 

“Suck on you again,” Obi-Wan murmured, and it was interesting, Qui-Gon couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment Obi-Wan had started to slip again, but it was written in the way he was making himself smaller, dropping words out of his sentences, curling close. 

“Of course pet,” Qui-Gon replied, dropping a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips as he scooped him up and carried him to the shower, Obi-Wan holding into him happily, dropping his head to Qui-Gon’s shoulder when he needed to see where he was going. 

Qui-Gon knew, that outside of that soft, sweet headspace his pet seemed to drift into so very effortlessly, with just a gentle touch and word of praise, Obi-Wan would never ask such a thing. He would be too embarrassed, too held back by his delusions of jedi-hood, too worried about any number of things that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was what Obi-Wan wanted, and Qui-Gon loved him like this, because he gave into it like this. 

As the water in his ‘fresher warmed up, Qui-Gon set Obi-Wan on the gound, he looked ridiculously small swamped in his cloak, swimming in the fabric, which pooled around his feet and engulfed his pale arms. Obi-Wan was pliant, if embarrassed, as Qui-Gon stripped the black cloak from him, Obi-Wan’s spend smeared between the cloth and his cock. 

Some of Obi-Wan’s release was caught in the hair at the base of his cock, and Qui-Gon found himself wondering how Obi-Wan would look if he was completely smooth down there, whether he would let Qui-Gon make that fantasy reality. 

Qui-Gon started stripping out of his own clothes methodically, slowing when a pair of shy hands joined his, Obi-Wan biting at his lips as he undid the buttons, running his hands over the skin that was revealed until they were both naked and Obi-Wan was pretending not to be looking at his hard cock. 

“You can look all you like, pet,” Qui-Gon teased, kissing Obi-Wan thoroughly, one had cupping his face as the other checked the water temperature. 

Satisfied that it was warm enough, Qui-Gon took the waterproof lube from his cabinet and helped Obi-Wan under the spray, making sure he didn’t misjudge the step, when he was clearly still a foggy, and only likely to grow more so. 

Qui-Gon set the lube aside, but kept it in Obi-Wan’s eye line, hoping that it would make it impossible for his padawan to think about anything other than what Qui-Gon was going to do to him, ratcheting up his anticipation while Qui-gon himself ignored the slick, instead lathering up Obi-Wan’s hair with shampoo. He knew it was working by the way Obi-Wan was shifting from foot to foot, even as he sighed happily at the head massage Qui-Gon was giving him. 

He rinsed Obi-Wan’s hair off, making sure none got in his eyes, before doing his own. By the time he was done, Obi-Wan was gnawing on his lip with his eyes cast down, one of his fingers drawing circles on Qui-Gon’s thigh, near enough to his cock that occasionally his padawan’s hand brushed against it. 

“You can touch, if you like pet,” Qui-Gon said casually, knowing that his padawan wanted to, and letting him hear his pleased groan as tentative fingers wrapped as far around as they could go. 

Obi-Wan held him, more exploring him than stroking his cock, but Qui-Gon hadn’t told him the manner in which he should touch him, and could let his curious pet explore his cock if he wanted to. The inquisitive touch was titillating, and surprisingly nice, but not enough to challenge Qui-Gon’s ability to stay in control of himself, conditioning his hair calmly as Obi-Wan’s left hand joined his right. 

He was chewing on his lip again, staring down at Qui-Gon’s cock as if lost in thought, and Qui-Gon let him have a few more moments of curiosity before hooking too fingers under his chin and commanding his attention, though he pressed a kiss to his lips before he spoke. 

“Turn around, pet,” Qui-Gon said, affecting a firmness in his voice that had Obi-Wan almost slipping in his haste to obey, and he was malleable in his hands as he pushed his padawan to brace himself against the wall, pushing his ass out until there was a particularly lovely curve in his spine, that the water from the fresher was gliding down. “Good boy,” Qui-Gon praised, knowing how it settled Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, although Qui-Gon made sure the sound of him popping the cap of the lube was loud enough to be heard, and he knew Obi-Wan did hear, a slight tension gathering in his shoulders. The steam from the shower had warmed the gel, and Qui-Gon liberally coated two of his fingers, Obi-Wan trying to swallow a whimper as he used his clean hand to spread one of his cheeks wide. 

“Don’t hide, I want to hear you,” Qui-Gon murmured, as he looked at Obi-Wan’s hole. It was small, tight, and a pretty pink, and Qui-Gon’s cock jumped just thinking about how good it was going to look stretched wide around his cock, how good it was going to feel to be inside such a tight, untouched, willing little body. He stroked himself a couple of times, pressing his cock against Obi-Wan’s hole just to see clearly how big he was compared to his padawan’s body, Obi-Wan’s breath hitching at the feel of Qui-Gon’s cockhead kissing his hole. 

“Master…?” Obi-Wan moaned, sounding of all things, _hopeful_ , which was more of a test to Qui-Gon’s patience than any challenge the jedi had ever concocted for him. 

“Not today pet, I just wanted to see how much work your little hole is going to have to do before I can.”

“How much?” Obi-Wan asked, moaning softly when Qui-Gon’s slick fingers pressed against his hole, rocking back towards them. 

“Hmm, at least a month pet, you’re so small compared to me, aren’t you?”

“A month?” Obi-Wan protested, breaking off into a loud, wordless whine as Qui-Gon gently, but firmly pressed his index finger inside of his padawan, stopping at the second knuckle as his apprentice clutched him tight. 

“With how tight you’re virgin hole is around just one of my fingers, you’ll be lucky if it isn’t longer, little one,” Qui-Gon purred into Obi-Wan’s ear, slowly pulling his finger out and pushing it back in again, working it a little deeper each time. 

“No! Too long,” Obi-Wan protested grumpily around desperate moans - a juxtaposition that made Qui-Gon chuckle, though he was wary of the way Obi-wan was dropping even more words from his sentences. 

“Well then you’re going to have to bee good and practice aren’t you,” Qui-Gon murmured, his first finger still working Obi-Wan open, not yet able to get the full digit inside him comfortably, determined for this to be nothing but a pleasurable experience for Obi-Wan. “You’re going to have to ask me nicely every morning and every evening to stretch your little hole, so that you can learn how to take my cock as quickly as possible.”

“Yes master, please, please I -” Obi-Wan cut off with a loud moan as Qui-Gon finally had his full finger inside his hole and started fucking it in and out. His padawan’s cock was hard again already, and he was so young that Qui-Gon wondered how many times he could get him to come, if he really did need a cock ring for him at all, or if he could just keep fucking orgasms out of him, over and over again. 

But that was an experiment for another day, Obi-Wan was clearly already getting overwhelmed, losing his words and his back muscles tensing wildly as Qui-Gon fucked him slow and deep on his finger. He readjusted his other hand, pulling Obi-Wan’s cheek wider she that he could press deeper, changing the angle until his padawan wailed and shook when he found his prostate. 

“I was going to try and get two fingers in this tight little hole, but I don’t think you’re ready,” Qui-Gon teased, still stretching Obi-Wan on one, brushing over his prostate occasionally, careful not to let his padawan receive enough stimulation to come, though he had no doubt that his perfect padawan wouldn’t even need his prostate touched for his desperate cock to spill. 

“No, please!” Obi-Wan protested, pushing back on the finger currently inside him, and whining when Qui-Gon pressed at his rim with the second. “Please master,” he mumbled on a breath, but despite his teasing, Qui-Gon genuinely wasn’t sure if he should, Obi-Wan’s rim was clinging to his one finger, and he was slowly opening around him, but it was incremental, no matter how much Obi-Wan made it clear he was enjoying it. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, pet.”

“Please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, and he sounded so sweet that Qui-Gon found him hard to deny. 

“Alright sweet one, I’m going to make that desperate, wet little cock of yours come, and then when you’re relaxed from that, I’m going to press a second finger inside your hole. If you’re good and can take it, then I’ll let you have a treat after, okay.”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan said quickly, devolving into nothing but moans and whimpers as Qui-Gon started massaging his prostate, spasming in his hold, hole flexing around his finger. His padawan took less than thirty seconds to spill against the shower wall, the arm around his waist the only thing stopping him from melting to the floor. 

“Did that feel good?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan sighed, sounding a long way away, and Qui-Gon smiled and kissed the back of his neck.

“Good boy, now just think about how good you feel,” he murmured, pressing his second slick finger against Obi-Wan’s rim. 

He was more relaxed from his orgasm, and Qui-Gon found he could work his middle finger in alongside his index, though it was a tight squeeze. He wanted to pet Obi-Wan back and sooth him, but his padawan was still relying on his hold to stay standing, so instead Qui-Gon relinquished his view to press kisses to Obi-Wan neck as he slowly stretched Obi-Wan open around two of his fingers.

“Shh pet, you’re doing so well, so good for me,” Qui-Gon hushed as Obi-Wan whimpered, a soft, broken sound as his hole was opened wide.

“Big,” Obi-Wan sniffled, his body oversensitive from his orgasm while his ass was still being played with, no doubt overwhelming his padawan. Qui-Gon’s hands were large, but he knew Obi-Wan was mostly reacting to a new level of sensation, and he didn’t ask Qui-Gon to stop, so he steadily pressed forward until, long minutes later, when Obi-Wan was shaking in his arms, he reached the final knuckle. 

“There pet, you did so well,” Qui-Gon praised, kissing Obi-Wan’s shoulders and neck. “You took them so well, now I’m going to take them out, and you’re going to get a treat, does that sound good?” Obi-Wan nodded his head in big slow movements, whimpering as Qui-Gon slowly withdrew his fingers, as gently as he could. 

“Empty,” Obi-Wan whimpered, and Qui-Gon made sure to keep his hands on him, seeing how vulnerable his padawan was. 

He held Obi-Wan close as he turned off the ‘fresher, making his padawan shiver for a moment before Qui-Gon wrapped a fluffy towel around him and dried him off, giving himself a cursory wipe as Obi-Wan tried to cuddle into his chest, one of his hands going back to Qui-Gon’s cock, aching with neglect to the point were he pulsed with need in Obi-Wan’s loose grip. 

Obi-Wan only let go when he was being carried back to bed, it was late, and Obi-Wan seemed tired despite having slept all day, and Qui-Gon tucked him under the covers to keep him warm, skin and hair still damp, joining him quickly. 

“What would you like for your treat?” Qui-Gon asked, accepting the sloppy kisses Obi-Wan was trying to give him. 

“Can I…” Obi-Wan trailed off, shoving inelegantly at the covers and wiggling down until his head was pillowed on Qui-Gon’s thigh and he had moved his sloppy kisses to the base of Qui-Gon’s straining cock. 

“Yes pet, but you were going to be allowed to suck me anyway, you can have another treat too,” Qui-Gon said, working hard to keep his voice level as Obi-Wan held him with one hand to help reach the head of Qui-Gon’s cock with his mouth. He ran a hand through Obi-Wan’s hair, trying to coax an answer out of him even though he seemed distracted. “Come on pet, you deserve one.”

“Hmm Zorse Buns for breakfast?” Obi-Wan asked, lapping sweetly at the head of Qui-Gon’s cock before popping it in his mouth and sucking sweetly, forcing a groan out of Qui-Gon as his padawan closed his eyes and hummed happily around his mouthful. 

“Of course,” Qui-Gon replied, stroking Obi-Wan’s hair before taking it in a firmer grip, his own need getting too heightened to ignore. “Now be a good boy and make me come in that sweet little mouth of yours,” he said, voice more of a growl than he intended, but Obi-Wan reacted perfectly to it, sucking with more intent and bobbing his head. 

He was sloppy, his drool running down Qui-Gon’s cock as he bobbed his head, making obscene wet noises as he went. He wanted to let Obi-Wan suck him like he clearly wanted too, lazily and for a long time, but fingering his padawan had used up the last of his patience, and he used his hold on Obi-Wan’s head to move him faster, guide his movements. He murmured praise as Obi-Wan sunk into it, relaxing and letting Qui-Gon dictate, his mouth open, wet and willing as his head was moved up and down on Qui-Gon’s thick cock.

All he could think about was how good it would feel to fuck Obi-Wan’s face, when he was a bit more experienced, but his pet wouldn’t be able to take that yet, despite his eagerness and desire to suck on Qui-Gon’s cock. With his free hand, Qui-Gon stroked the half of his cock Obi-Wan couldn’t take as he worked Obi-Wan over what he could. 

His padawan was perfect, humming and making content noises as he was used, still trying to suck as Qui-Gon moved him, and when he came, Obi-Wan swallowed his come without coughing this time, though some of it had spilled out the side of his mouth when he blinked up at Qui-Gon innocently. 

“Come here,” Qui-Gon growled, pulling Obi-Wan into his lap and collecting the spilled come on his tongue, so that he could push it into Obi-Wan's mouth when he kissed him, his padawan taking it hungrily. “How do you feel?”

“Hmm, good. Tired,” Obi-Wan sighed, cuddling into Qui-Gon’s chest, Qui-Gon accepting him easily, turning off the light and holding his padawan. Despite claiming to be tired, Obi-Wan fidgeted a lot, struggling to get settled, and Qui-Gon had a suspicion that it was an effect of how deeply his padawan was still swimming in subspace, and on a hunch he slipped two of his fingers into Obi-Wan’s mouth, satisfied when he almost immediately stilled and drifted off. 

Obi-Wan was more his normal self when the morning arrived, up before Qui-Gon - unsurprising since he slept most of the previous day away as well as the night - and admitting that he felt too lethargic after the previous day’s inactivity. He smiled with his mouth just slightly open with happiness when Qui-Gon told him they could spend the day training, Obi-Wan bouncing on the balls of his feet and clearly resisting the urge to hurry Qui-Gon along. 

He considered pulling Obi-Wan over to him, stretching him and slipping the smallest of the plugs he had bought him, but not yet shown him, into his tight hole and making him wear it all day, but decided that it was too soon. The sensation of something in his hole was still so new to Obi-Wan, he felt there was more of a chance of him being unable to go through his day at all, and Obi-Wan had made it clear that he wanted to train properly.

Obi-Wan blushed his way through his sticky Zorse Buns, but clearly enjoyed them, his cheeks tinted pink and he smiled and munched, Qui-Gon deftly avoiding his questions about what business he had disappeared off to the day before. 

Obi-Wan was brimming with energy as he breezed through his katas, taking on another advanced form as Qui-Gon showed him, his hand on Obi-Wan’s body helping him to achieve perfect form. He was ravenous at lunch and difficult to calm enough for meditation, Qui-Gon having to help him reach that serenity he craved when the tendrils of frustration started jabbing at his padawan. 

When their lunch had settled they went through saber technique and sparred, Obi-Wan was wilder than usual, and made more mistakes, but he was also beautiful like this, and so sparking with the force that Qui-Gon was half surprised the ship experience minor malfunctions. In the end, he wound up giving his padawan a brutal work out circuit to do, running it with him, just to burn off all the excess energy spending a day asleep seemed to have built up in him. 

By dinner, Obi-Wan was finally relaxed, eating the platter of cured meats and cheese they were sharing more steadily, and Qui-Gon could tell, from the set of his shoulder’s alone, that Obi-Wan wanted to say something, but he said nothing to prompt him, preferring to let Obi-Wan fidget in silence, until he found the words himself. It got worse as the meal progressed and Obi-Wan accepted his desert - a cold tart covered in chocolate and rich berries - shifting around in his seat and not looking at Qui-Gon, but he eventually broke when he only had a few bites remaining. 

“Master?”

“Yes pet?”

“Where should I sleep tonight?” Obi-Wan asked, sounding far too timid, all things considered; perhaps it was the effect of spending the day training so hard to become a jedi, as he dreamed. 

“You can go back to your room if it’s what you want, but I would prefer you stayed with me now,” Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan smiled, taking another bite of his desert. “It will be so much easier to train that tight hole of yours if you are with me.” Obi-Wan’s face flamed, and Qui-Gon watched amused as he struggled to swallow his dessert and not choke. “You already missed a session this morning you were up so fast, you’re going to have to work extra hard tonight.”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan squeaked, squirming for a whole new reason. 

Qui-Gon watched the anticipation built in his padawan as he waited as patiently as he could for Qui-Gon to finish his evening cup of tea, and Obi-Wan worked so hard not to seem over-eager as they returned to Qui-Gon’s quarters that he couldn’t help his low chuckle. Obi-Wan idled by the bed when they reached it, as Qui-Gon removed his jacket in a far more relaxed manner. 

“Why don't you go have your shower pet, there are a few things I need to see to first.”

Obi-Wan nodded and disappeared, Qui-Gon predicting that he had about fifteen minutes to organise what he needed; a fast shower, but not so fast Obi-Wan would panic about looking too desperate, although if he slipped back into that soft headspace, he would stop worrying entirely. 

Qui-Gon didn’t undress beyond taking off his jacket, instead making sure the slick was in easy reach of the bed and going to his wardrobe to find another wooden box, his latest gift for Obi-Wan. He set it on the bed beside him, and waited for his padawan to emerge from the bathroom, thirteen minutes after he had gone in, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. 

“Come here pet,” Qui-Gon instructed, patting his leg for Obi-Wan to sit on, his padawan came dutifully and settled in his lap, his eyes on the box beside Qui-Gon, spying a new present for himself. “Good boy, now, before we start, I would like to talk to you about something very important.”

“Yes master?” Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon was glad to hear his usual cadence in his voice, confirming that his padawan hadn’t gotten himself into a state in the shower. 

“I have noticed that when I’m playing with your lovely body, you slip away from your mind a little, don’t you pet, you go somewhere that feels very sweet and simple?”

“Is that wrong?” Obi-Wan replied, teeth worrying at his lip nervously, Qui-Gon stroked a hand down his back. 

“No pet, it’s perfect. But I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes?”

“If you ever start to feel like you’re slipping into a nasty version of that place, I need you to tell me right away. You won’t be in trouble, I just want to look after you, and that’s what you want, isn’t it pet, to be looked after?” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan nodded, cheeks pink. “Use your words pet.”

“Yes, master. I can tell you. And I - I like it when you take care of me,” he admitted, as if they didn’t both already know that. Qui-Gon pressed a kiss to his lips dropped one on his nose for good measure. 

“Good, now, I have another present for you,” he said, reaching for the wooden box, plain but with metal coverings on the corners shaped like ivy this time, and passed it to Obi-Wan, who took it with curious hands. Obi-Wan opened it, and Qui-Gon stifled a laugh at the confused expression that crossed over his face.

“What are they?” He asked, reaching in and picking up the third of the plugs set inside the box. There were six in total, from slim all the way up to a plug only a little smaller than his own cock. . 

“They’re how I’m going to train your tight hole, pet, I’m going to stretch you open and then plug you up for as long as you can take it,” Qui-Gon replied, watching and Obi-Wan’s face flushed red and he looked ready to drop the plug he was holding, but managed to place it back in the box. 

“There’s six of them, do I need so many?” Obi-Wan asked, and Qui-Gon took the box from his hands, setting it aside and taking out the largest plug. 

“The smallest is a little less than two of my fingers, which you took so prettily but not easily last night, you wouldn’t be able to start on any bigger. And this one, isn't even quite as big as my cock,” Qui-Gon explained, voice low. He set the plug aside and unspooled the towel tucked around Obi-Wan’s hips, exposing his already-hard cock that had been tenting the fabric. With two of his fingers, Qui-Gon pressed against Obi-Wan’s belly button. “When I fuck you, I will be this deep inside you, so yes little on, you need all six.” Obi-Wan’s face was aflame and he looked back towards the plugs. “Would you like to try and take the smallest one tonight?” 

Obi-Wan nodded and Qui-Gon praised him, picking him up in a bridal carry and setting him down with his head on the pillows before sitting by his hip on the edge of the bed. He ran a hand down Obi-Wan’s chest, finding him, as he suspected, with stiff muscles from the thorough workout he had gone through all day, which was not what he wanted right now. 

“Stay here, roll onto your tummy for me,” Qui-Gon instructed, going to the bedside draw and finding the massage oil he kept there. “I’m going to give you a massage, your muscles are sore,” Qui-Gon explained, and Obi-Wan turned his head to the side, giving him a soft look. 

Qui-Gon warmed the oil in his hands and ran them over Obi-Wan’s knotted back, frowning at how bad the muscles were, thinking about the hard training regime he had his padawan on and resolving to do this for him more often. He worked over each muscle group, each new section making Obi-Wan whimper with a little pain to start with, as Qui-Gon pressed and pushed to get the muscles to release and relax, but they always transformed into little content whimpers after. 

Obi-Wan’s shoulders were the worse, but his back and thighs were also stiff, and Qui-Gon ended up working on the back of his padawan’s body for almost half an hour before he was satisfied. Obi-Wan whined needily when Qui-Gon moved to his ass, massaging his cheeks and pulling them apart, exposing his hole to the air. He massaged the tight rim for long minutes that made Obi-Wan whine and tense - an unfortunately side effect - as he pressed around the muscle and let just the very tip of his finger inside, tugging at the rim and coaxing it a little looser. 

When his rim was relaxed but his hole still tight, Qui-Gon encouraged Obi-Wan to roll over again, repeating the massage on his arms, chest and legs. He avoided his cock but paid special attention to his nipples, which were as responsive as the rest of him, peaking into bitable buds as Qui-Gon swirled his finger around them, whimpering when they were flicked and tugged. 

By the time he was done, Obi-Wan was a puddle of muscle on the bed, and didn’t seem to think anything of it when Qui-Gon lifted on of his legs and carefully pushed a single finger into his hole. He cried out, but in his relaxed state his muscles yielded to Qui-Gon much easier, and he stretched his hole a little before he withdrew and settled near Obi-Wan’s feet. 

He had never paid much attention to his padawan’s feet before, so many more interesting parts of his body to look at, and Qui-Gon was surprised to find them as cute as the rest of his padawan, small and pale, looking soft despite how often he was on his feet throughout the day. With gentler hands than he had with the rest of his body, Qui-Gon pressed his thumbs into the arch of one of Obi-Wan’s feet, and given the amount of running, balancing and sparring Obi-Wan had done that day, was unsurprised to hear him let out a strangled moan. 

Qui-Gon worked his thumbs on one foot and then the other, over his arches and into the balls of his feet, before pressing at Obi-Wan’s heels with the heel of his hand, until Obi-Wan’s delicate ankles were letting his feet flop bonelessly down. His toes were small and sweet, neatly kept and a little fuzzy, and Qui-Gon thought nothing of it as he dropped a kiss onto Obi-Wan’s toes, but he noticed Obi-Wan drag his eyes open blearily. 

“Master?”

“Mmm?” Qui-Gon inquired, and he kissed Obi-Wan’s little pink toes again before moving to the other foot. 

“Why’re you kissing my feets?” He grumbled, voice syrupy from his massage, clearly being well into a slip into subspace already. 

“Because they like the rest of you, they’re very cute,” Qui-Gon replied nonchalantly, pleased when he kissed the arch of one foot and Obi-Wan shuddered, his cock bouncing against his stomach, still hard and leaking steadily.

“But they’re feet?” Obi-Wan replied, confused even when his breath hitched as Qui-Gon kissed his heel. 

“Yes, and I have a suspicion, that like every other part of your untouched little body, they’re very sensitive,” Qui-Gon murmured, smirking when he kissed the ball of Obi-Wan’s left foot and he was proven right, with his padawan moaning lightly. 

Obi-Wan didn’t speak again and eventually melted back into the touches, letting noises slip from him easily as Qui-Gon continued to lavish attention on his feet, pressing open mouthed kisses to his ankles before relinquishing them and spreading Obi-Wan’s legs. His padawan stayed quiet but chewed on his lip and looked up at Qui-Gon with wide eyes as he slicked up two fingers and picked up the smallest plug with his clean hand. 

“Here pet, can you hold this for me?” He asked, and Obi-Wan took it, turning the silicone over in his hands and exploring it with touch. It was simple and black, with a slight bulge before the tapered neck and base which Obi-Wan kept running his fingers over.

Still slightly loose from the massage, Qui-Gon’s first finger pressed inside his padawan more easily than it had the day before, able to sink in in one smooth push that made Obi-Wan whine and spread his legs wider, Qui-Gon raising an eye at his padawan’s flexibility as they fell open on the bed. Qui-Gon fingered him long and slow, paying intermittent attention to the sweet bundle of nerves that made his padawan light up with pleasure, teasing him for the way his little cock drooled on his skin. 

Obi-Wan cried out as Qui-Gon steadily worked a second finger inside of him, body just shy of too tight, coiling tight as his cock dribbled desperately, instead of unwound by recent release. 

“Breathe pet, nice and easy,” Qui-Gon murmured, rubbing a hand low on Obi-Wan’s stomach, just above the thatch of hair there, wondering if when his pet was finally ready, whether or not he would be able to feel himself inside his sweet little body here. 

Obi-Wan obeyed as best he could, responding to the praise Qui-Gon showered him with until he was taking the two fingers, wailing when Qui-Gon scissored him a little, at his limit for today. Qui-Gon played with his prostate for a little while, to distract his padawan from the tears trying to form in his green eyes, chasing them away until Obi-Wan was mewling. 

Obi-Wan made soft complaining noises as he drew his fingers out, and watched as Qui-Gon slicked up the first plug. He placed a hand back on that spot, low on Obi-Wan’s belly and slowly pressed the plug inside. It went fairly easily, Obi-Wan open enough to take it, but a little tight in anticipation of the toy, and the bulge in it before the neck was slightly wider than his fingers had been, Obi-Wan whimpering and Qui-Gon distracting him from the small twinge of discomfort by petting his hard little cock.

Slowly, Obi-Wan settled into the toy, getting used to feeling stretched, and of having something in his hole more permanently, his cock making it clear that he liked the feeling, even if he was finding it overwhelming at first. Qui-Gon crawled up his body, caging Obi-Wan beneath him. 

“You did so well pet, would you like to come?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan said, short of breath and whining when Qui-Gon touched his cock.

Qui-Gon took them both in his hand, Obi-Wan’s cock looking tiny next to his own and stroked them both with his fist, praising Obi-Wan when his smaller hand joined Qui-Gon’s, letting Qui-Gon lead but helping to cover a little more of Qui-Gon’s cock. 

He fucked into their hands, his cock rubbing against Obi-Wan’s, the feeling of his little cock rubbing against the underside of his was intoxicating, giving him more pleasure from a tame act than any of his other partners had ever given him with full use of their body. Obi-Wan came quickly, the dual sensations on their cocks pressed together and the toy in his ass leaving him spurting over Qui-Gon’s hand and the underside of his cock. 

He took pity on his apprentice and after a few more strokes, let go of his sensitised cock, a mercy he probably wouldn’t have given if he wasn’t so new to the feeling of being plugged up. He looked down at his padawan’s perfect, sated body, pale but flushed pink from exertion, pleasure and embarrassment, his hand still in a loose hold around Qui-Gon’s cock, but forcing his eyes open to watch as Qui-Gon wrapped his hand in his own and used it to stroke his cock more thoroughly, growling when Obi-Wan came back to himself a few moments later and fighting through the fuzz in his mind took over stroking Qui-Gon’s cock. 

His left hand joined his right, so that he could create a tight chanel for Qui-Gon to fuck into, and he had such a look of determination on his face Qui-Gon was hit by an unexpected wave of fondness, even as he fucked into Obi-Wan’s hands. His padawan was a fast learner and already knew how to squeeze at the head of his cock and the base, to rub his thumb into the slit.

He should have expected that when his hips grew erratic that Obi-Wan would hungrily wrap his lips around the head of his cock, but it somehow caught him off-guard and had him pulsing into that sweet mouth, Obi-Wan swallowing Qui-Gon’s come, and then cleaning his cock of his own earlier release as well.

“Master?” Obi-Wan questioned as Qui-Gon turned off the light and pulled Obi-Wan down to sleep, plug still snug in his ass. 

“You need to wear the plugs if you want your little bottom to get used to being stretched. I need you to sleep with it in pet, do you think you can do that for me?”

“O-okay. I can try?” Obi-Wan replied hesitantly, trying to wiggle down into the bedding, only to tense when it jostled the plug inside him, eventually only doing so when manhandled into position by Qui-Gon. 

“Good boy,” he praised, trying to get his padawan to settle, but Obi-Wan was restless, complaining about his bottom and fidgeting around until Qui-Gon spooned up behind him and held him too tightly for him to continue to move. He offered him his fingers again and with a little more hesitance than the night before, Obi-Wan took them into his mouth and began to drift off, Qui-Gon able to feel the way his cheeks flamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gratuitous padabooottyyyy, and next time? M O R E G R A T U I T O U S P A D A B O O T Y except next time it might be a tad redder ¬‿¬ 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, i know i say it a lot but they mean the absolute world to me and each and every one makes me smile <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for my struggling to get updates up daily as I would prefer, I’ll endeavour to get back to it but the chapters have doubled in length atm from when i started so it is Hard :') but your comments keep me alive
> 
> chapter incluuudes: spanking, lite exhibitionism, shaving, and rly they should have discussed things better by now but hey ho qui is a sith not a paragon of perfect kink conduct 

Qui Gon was woken by a sweet voice, soft with sleep and only just loud enough to be heard at all. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan whispered again, Qui-Gon knew without opening his eyes that his pet was biting at his lip again, leaving it perpetually red and distracting.

“Yes, pet?” Qui-Gon replied, opening his eyes lazily and finding Obi-Wan with his head tucked on his abdomen, looking up at Qui-Gon, his pupils already blown. Qui-Gon noticed that his own cock was already mostly hard, and wondered if it was just an effect of having Obi-Wan in his bed, or if his padawan had been a little naughty, and played with him while he was still sleeping. 

“I - ” Obi-Wan immediately flushed a little, and Qui-Gon ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s morning.”

“Very astute, padawan,” Qui-Gon teased, letting his hand run from Obi-Wan’s hair and down his back, as far as he could reach without moving. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan said again, voice taking on a whinier edge. 

“I’m not a mind reader, pet, you have to tell me what you’re trying to say,” Qui-Gon replied, although he knew, because he had hardly forgotten about the slim plug nestled between Obi-Wan’s cheeks, and he had no doubt that that was what was winding Obi-Wan up so early in the morning. Obi-Wan groaned, dropping his forehead onto Qui-Gon’s chest and pushing against him in little annoyed shoves that made Qui-Gon chuckle. 

After a moment of this, Obi-Wan shuffled, whimpering with every significant movement he made as he shuffled up Qui-Gon’s body until his head was sharing the pillow. He took Qui-Gon’s left hand, now resting low on his back and pulled it downwards, until he was resting Qui-Gon’s fingers on the base of the plug. 

“Now I’m still not sure what you mean, pet, do you mean that you would like me to take this out, or,” Qui-Gon said, applying sudden steady pressure on the base of the plug that had Obi-Wan moaning and panting. “Do you mean that you would like me to pay some attention to your hole this morning?”

“P-Please,” Obi-Wan panted, body clearly unsure if he was trying to get away from the sensation, or rock back against it.

“Pet,” Qui-Gon said, voice firm in warning as Obi-Wan still failed to provide him with an answer, making him squeal as he took the base of the plug in a firmer hold and pulled, not hard enough to let it come free of Obi-Wan’s hole - difficult anyway, as his rim had tightened up over night - but enough to let Obi-Wan feel the pressure at his entrance. 

“Play with me, please, master,” Obi-Wan whimpered, wiggling in Qui-Gon’s hand, and he cried out loudly when Qui-Gon smacked him hard once on his pert ass. “Master!” Obi-Wan protested, somewhere between startled, indignant and excited. Qui-Gon did not miss the way his cock had jerked from the slap. 

“That,” Qui-Gon said, massaging one hand over Obi-Wan’s cheek to soothe the sting, “was for being impatient and waking me up early.”

“I’m sorry!” Obi-Wan squeaked, looking far more alarmed than Qui-Gon had intended, so he tugged Obi-Wan closer to soothe the panic with a lingering kiss. 

“Apology accepted,” Qui-Gon murmured, sensing those were the words that would calm his padawan more than anything. “Now, I want you to lie on top of the covers on your front,” Qui-Gon instructed, smirking as Obi-Wan scurried to obey. “Good boy,” he praised, and watched as the muscles in Obi-Wan back loosened just from the words. 

He ran a hand down Obi-Wan’s bare back before finding the slick and repositioning himself more comfortably for what he had planned, kneeling between Obi-Wan’s soft legs. His hands were able to cover the expanse of Obi-Wan’s pert little ass, and he squeezed a cheek in each hand, pulling them apart to expose the base of the plug. 

“Hold yourself open for me,” Qui-gon instructed, taking Obi-Wan’s right hand and pressing it to his right cheek. Obi-Wan hid his face in the pillow as it flamed, but did as he was asked, leaving Qui-Gon with his pet completely exposed and a free hand to use on the toy in his ass.

He took the base in a light grip between his fingers and drank down Obi-Wan’s muffled moans as he shifted it inside his padawan, deliberately rocking it against his prostate to help his body remember how good it could feel to have something moving inside him, hoping it would help loosen his rim again. He pulled with a gentle steady pressure on the plug, Obi-Wan crying out  _ master, _ voice strangled with pleasure, before he relaxed his grip again.

“Up on your knees, pet,” Qui-Gon said, hands guiding Obi-Wan’s hips, steadying him as he changed position, whining at the way it shifted the plug. Qui-Gon reached between his legs when he was up, stroking his hard, leaking little cock a couple of times as Obi-Wan writhed but managed to stay on his hands and knees. “Good boy.”

This time as he pulled at the plug, he didn’t stop until the slightly bulging base finally slipped past Obi-Wan’s tight ring of muscle and his padawan was wailing, his arms giving as he fell onto his shoulders and face. Qui-Gon held the toy still and gave Obi-Wan a few moments to recover before tapping on his shoulder. 

“Back up pet, I want you to hold this position while I fuck you,” Qui-Gon purred, kissing the small of Obi-Wan’s back and praising him as he raised himself back up on shaking arms. With one big hand, Qui-Gon spread Obi-Wan’s ass, and with the other hand squeezed a little more lube on the toy before he started shallowly fucking Obi-Wan with it. 

Obi-Wan cried out, head dropping low between his shoulders but standing up on his hands as Qui-Gon pumped the toy and in and out of his hole. He worked him a little more open first, changing the angle so that the stretch loosened his rim back up, brushing the toy over his prostate and telling him how good he was for staying up on his hands. 

When he was looser, he pressed the plug all the way back inside, the slight bulge at the base going in and out more easily now, but still dragging at Obi-Wan’s rim in a way that made him whimper. But he was rocking back against every thrust of the toy, his back curved beautifully as his body and quiet little begs grew more desperate.

He knew his padawan was not going to last long like this, body wound tight all through the night, and considered taking him to the edge only to deny him, see how many times Obi-Wan could take it before he crumbled completely. But he was so sweet like this, so perfect, that Qui-Gon decided he could tease him another time, and fucked him harder on the toy. 

Obi-Wan was gorgeous when he came - and Qui-Gon spared a moment of frustration at not being able to see the way his face slackened, mouth dropping open in a perfect little ‘o’ - his muscles all tensed suddenly and he gasped, as if it was as surprise to him every time, before everything released at once and he went limp and boneless, his arms giving way as he went pliant and helplessly shuddered into every aftershock of pleasure that followed as Qui-Gon rocked the plug more gently, before finally pulling it free. 

Obi-Wan made a soft, protesting sound at the sudden emptiness after a night of being full, and Qui-Gon rubbed his thumb over Obi-Wan’s hole, dipping inside and enjoying the loosened muscle as Obi-Wan purred in the bedding. He wrapped his other hand around his straining cock and started stroking himself, Obi-Wan’s aroused whine filling up his ears as his padawan realised what he was doing, finding some energy to wiggle his ass towards Qui-Gon’s cock. 

Qui-Gon groaned, he wanted to bury himself in his tight heat, but knew his padawan was far from ready, and forced himself to stay in control of his desires, the slope of his back was perfect and he knew it would only look more so painted with his come. He stroked himself hard and fast, pushing the head of his cock against Obi-Wan’s warm skin. 

The visual of Obi-Wan beneath him pleading for Qui-Gon’s cock and filling up Qui-Gon’s mind with thoughts of what he would be like the first time Qui-Gon buried his cock inside his little hole; would he beg for more, plead and whine for harder and faster; or would he squirm and whimper as he struggle to take him, tears welling in his eyes as he was stretched to the limit, but cock hard and leaking and sweetly breathing out for more.

It was with that thought, and Obi-Wan reaching back to spread himself without prompting, that Qui-Gon spilled himself, shooting his come over Obi-Wan’s back and hole until he was dripping with his release. 

“Lovely,” Qui-Gon murmured, dropping down and kissing a clean patch of skin as Obi-Wan shivered. “You’re going to look so lovely one day, with my come dripping out your hole and running down these soft thighs.”

“Master!” Obi-Wan said, looking over his shoulders with a scandalised expression, but Qui-Gon knew him better than that by now and chuckled, bracketing Obi-Wan’s body to kiss his lips, knowing that deep down, Obi-Wan had liked the mental image just as much s he did. 

They showered together after that and resumed their day as usual, Obi-Wan training as much as he physically could between days spent discovering whatever planet they were currently docked at whenever possible. Every evening and morning Qui-Gon stretched him, until he could finally take the next size, whimpering and shuddering as his body stretched around the new size. 

The morning after he had taken the second plug they were running through katas in the training salle, and Qui-Gon found himself frowning, and growing ever-more frustrated at his padawan as his form lacked posie, as he failed to attain positions Qui-Gon well knew he was capable of. 

“You have dropped your shoulders again,” Qui-Gon said, voice firm and using his own hands to correct Obi-Wan’s position. 

“Sorry master,” Obi-Wan replied, as he always did, but when he moved on to the next his feet were turned incorrectly and his back was too rigid. 

“No pet, I know you know how to do this,” Qui-Gon chided, laying his hands on Obi-Wan and moving him into the proper form with two hands around his waist. “Is something wrong?”

“No master, sorry master,” Obi-Wan said, though Qui-Gon was fairly sure he had heard more sincerity in an apology from Maul, and he squeezed his waist in warning. 

Obi-Wan cleaned up his act through the next few katas, but when he moved into sweeping deorsum his form dropped again. It was a position Obi-Wan was good at, and Qui-Gon knew from how long he’d had his padawan hold the suggestive pose in the past, legs slightly spread, hands pressed against the floor between them, with no bend in the knee - a bend that was very much in his knees now. 

“Pet,” Qui-Gon’s voice was stern with warning as he took hold of Obi-Wan’s hips and pushed them up to extend his legs, his padawan’s body went easily, but Obi-Wan’s breath hitched and he leant into Qui-Gon’s grip, a grip which Qui-Gon tightened, realising he was being toyed with. “Padawan, have you been deliberately losing form on your katas?”

“N-”

“I will warn you this once only, not to lie to me. About anything.”

“Y-yes!” Obi-Wan changed his answer quickly, still bent over in the pose, his face red from having his head so low, but Qui-Gon had no doubt it would be red anyway. 

“Why?”

“I wanted your hands on me.”

“Greedy. In future you  _ ask _ me, pet, you do not misbehave, because there are consequences to misbehaviour, aren’t there. Stand up,” Qui-Gon demanded, stepping away from Obi-Wan.

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked, voice fill with trepidation at Qui-Gon’s words, but he did as he was told, trembling as Qui-Gon circled him. 

Qui-Gon didn’t answer him, making him wait where he was as Qui-Gon walked away from him, settling down in one of the chairs at the edge of the salle. 

“Come here,” he ordered, voice brokering no room for argument or hesitation, and Obi-Wan was quick to scurry over on nervous legs. “Lie over my lap, pet.”

“Master…?” Obi-Wan trailed off, confused, but awkwardly did as he was asked, using the chair beside Qui-Gon to steady himself, his feet struggling to reach the floor from the way he was draped over Qui-Gon’s lap. Qui-Gon let a heavy hand rest over Obi-Wan’s clothed rear, his padawan stilling completely as he tugged the waistband of Obi-Wan’s pants and underwear down until they rested just under his exposed ass. “Master?” Obi-Wan tried again, voice nervous, Qui-Gon rested a hand on Obi-Wan’s ass to try and calm him. 

“You wanted my hands on you pet, you’re going to get them. I am going to spank you, do you understand?”

“Here?” Obi-Wan squeaked, looking around the room, as if to confirm it was empty, eyes catching on the unlocked door. Qui-Gon knew no one would disturb them, they were under strict instruction to comm him if something urgent came up, but otherwise everyone well knew that when he was with his pet, they were to be left alone. 

“Yes pet, right here.”

“Someone might walk in,” Obi-Wan whispered, and Qui-Gon felt his little cock jerk against his leg, and filed that very interesting information away for another day, for now glad that his pet had picked up on the game. 

“And they will see a naughty padawan being punished for misbehaviour. If you didn’t want to be spanked, you should have done as you were told, shouldn’t you?”

“Yes m-master,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice as tense as his body, but Qui-Gon remembered how beautifully he had responded to a single spank when he had woken him early, and he massaged his cheeks to warm the skin.

“How many do you think you deserve?” Qui-Gon asked. 

“Ten?” Obi-Wan replied, breath hitching as Qui-Gon squeezed his ass roughly and ran his thumb over his hole, still a little loose from their fun that morning. 

“Hmm, no pet, fifteen at least,” Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan shivered under his hand. He was tempted to make him count out loud, to return to one every time he slipped up, but knew that was too much for now, and if Obi-Wan liked this as much as he suspected he would, then there would be plenty of opportunities when Obi-Wan was more practiced. 

“Okay,” Obi-Wan agreed tentatively and Qui-Gon smiled, though his padawan couldn’t see it. 

The first strike was relatively light, Qui-Gon bringing his hand down on Obi-Wan’s warmed skin with a satisfying noise, but Obi-Wan reacted like he had been shocked with pure electricity. He cried out and jerked in Qui-Gon’s lap, and when he settled again he tried to hide the way he rocked into Qui-Gon’s thigh. Qui-Gon smirked, glad that his pet was enjoying this new game even more than he’d expected, and held Obi-Wan down more firmly, to stop his greedy little hips. 

The second smack was harder, significantly so, and Obi-Wan  _ writhed _ in his lap as the pale skin of his ass took on the first tinge of pink.

“Master, master please,” Obi-Wan begged after Qui-Gon laid down the next three hits onto the same cheek, but he was held down, restrained from humping his cock into Qui-Gon’s leg. 

“No pet,” Qui-Gon replied, letting Obi-Wan whine. “This is not for your greedy little cock to enjoy.” A lie of course, his padawan had undoubtedly misbehaved, but Qui-Gon wouldn’t lay a finger on him if he didn't think he would enjoy it. 

The next five spanks fell on Obi-Wan’s untouched cheek, until both were sensitised and stinging and Obi-Wan was begging out broken words, losing them to moans and cries every time a new spank hit him, his cock completely hard in his clothes, and Qui-Gon’s own fattening from his padawan’s pink ass, desperate moans and hard little cock. 

Obi-Wan pleaded with him, though never said what he was actually pleading for, and Qui-Gon landed the next five spanks in quick succession, switching between both cheeks before spreading Obi-Wan’s cheeks with one hand, and landing the final, harsh spank directly over Obi-Wan’s hole. Obi-Wan cried out so loudly, an unintelligible groan of pleasure, that Qui-Gon thought he was going to come, and hauled him up far enough to get a tight grip around the base of his cock, Obi-Wan getting even louder as he attempted to garble out a plea that Qui-Gon studiously ignored. 

“Hush pet,” he said firmly, and waited with that tight grip until his padawan calmed down. Obi-Wan’s ass was glowing red, even prettier than it usually was like this, and it was warm and rosy to the touch as Qui-Gon soothed his palm over the burning skin. 

Eventually Obi-Wan’s breathing began to temper - if not steady - as the denial took him back from the brink of orgasm, he whimpered and went slack over Qui-Gon’s lap and more pretty pleas fell out of his mouth and went unanswered. 

“I’m s-sorry, master,” Obi-Wan sniffed as Qui-Gon released him, and Qui-Gon pulled his trousers back up, Obi-Wan groaning low in his throat as the fabric rubbed across stinging skin. 

Obi-Wan yelped, when instead of replying, Qui-Gon lifted him up, hefting his padawan over his shoulder, taking a tight grip on his sensitive ass as he stood and started marching through the ship towards their rooms. Obi-Wan squirmed and whined out weak protests as his shame rose with every person they passed, but he never made any real attempt to be put down, and his cock remained hard.

Qui-Gon set him down in the middle of his room, his padawan stumbling on his own feet as he was put down and trying to gather himself, a dazed look tinting his green eyes as Qui-Gon circled him. 

“Tsk. Getting so excited over your punishment,” Qui-Gon chided, looking at Obi-Wan, stood trembling in the middle of their bedroom, his cock tenting his pants.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan murmured again, eyes down and face burning with shame, almost as red as his ass was.

“You will be,” Qui-Gon purred, chuckling when Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, snapping to Qui-Gon in alarm. “Get into sweeping deorsum form, now.”

Obi-Wan scurried to obey, even though bending himself in half with his feet and hands on the ground must have been uncomfortable with his cock hard, but he assumed perfect form, even if his legs were shaking. Qui-Gon left him in the pose while he took the slick from the bedside table, along with the second plug, circling back around him and pulling his pants and underwear down to expose his ass, just like he had in the salle. 

“Don’t drop your form,” Qui-Gon instructed, giving Obi-Wan little time to work out what was about to happen before he pressed a slick finger into his slightly loose hole. 

Obi-Wan gasped, would have fallen over were it not for Qui-Gon’s steadying hand on his hip, but he recovered and forced himself to try and hold the pose as Qui-Gon stretched him open on one finger, then two. When Obi-Wan felt the tip of the plug resting against his entrance, he jerked again, needing his master to steady him once more. 

He hadn’t opened Obi-Wan up for as long as he usually would on his fingers, and he had only taken the second plug for the first time that night, but his padawan opened around it, though the push was slow and his knees kept trembling out of form. But Qui-Gon was proud, when the base of the toy settled against his ass and Obi-Wan was still mostly in the sweeping deorsum position. 

He petted Obi-Wan’s back for a moment, as he got used to the stretch in his hole again, before smacking his reddened ass and pulling his trousers up again, before ordering him to straighten up, which Obi-Wan did with a string of helpless little moans. 

Obi-Wan stood their trembling, knees practically knocking together and listing towards Qui-Gon, the clothing around his cock tenting obscenely.

“You have fifteen minutes to calm yourself down, after that I am bringing you out of this room whether you consider yourself presentable or not,” Qui-Gon explained, cruel of him perhaps, as he had a suspicion that being on display would only be more arousing to his pet, even if Obi-Wan wasn’t ready to admit that to himself just yet.

He chuckled when Obi-Wan tried to push his stiff cock down, his a desperate hand, looking a little wild at the prospect of being taken out of the room like this. He took a seat and watched Obi-Wan struggle to push and will his erection away, before valiantly trying to sink into a quick meditation to help himself, but the combination of the toy, his stinging ass, Qui-Gon’s eyes on him and - Qui-Gon suspected - the prospect of being on display, meant that he had only eased himself down to half-hardness by the time fifteen minutes rolled around. Obvious to anyone who looked, but not obscene and eye-catching anymore.

Obi-Wan seemed well in tune with the time, as just as Qui-Gon decided that it was time to make good on his promise, Obi-Wan looked up, fixing Qui-Gon with an almost heartbreakingly ashamed expression, gnawing on his lip and still trying to push his cock down.

“Alright pet, ready to finish your punishment?” Qui-Gon asked, hooking two fingers under Obi-Wan’s chin, searching for any real dissent or receding enjoyment and finding none, pleased when his pet nodded and wiping away the small tears welling in his eyes. “Come.” He ordered, finding Obi-Wan’s hand with his own and allowing his apprentice to hide behind his broad back as he walked him to the dining hall.

Obi-Wan fidgeted all through lunch, becoming distracted from his meal easily as the plug shifted inside him, finding it hard to focus, eating half of his lunch from Qui-Gon’s fingers without complaint in his dazed state of mind. When Qui-Gon took him back to the training salle for sparring - having to guide Obi-Wan as he nearly walked into a door - Obi-Wan looked up at him with wide eyes, staring dumbly as Qui-Gon handed him his sabre. 

“You may do circuits first, if you prefer pet, but we will be sparring today,” Qui-Gon offered, unsurprised when his padawan opted to start with the circuits, and then having him regret it immediately as Qui-Gon pushed him though sit ups, crunches, squats and v-sits, anything that he knew would make the plug inside him press hard against his sweet spot. He had to catch Obi-Wan twice as he fell out of his squats with a whimper, his cock back to struggling in his padawan robes. 

“Master please,” Obi-Wan panted, gripping Qui-Gon’s bicep as Obi-Wan finished his final crunch and Qui-Gon teased his cock through his robes just for a moment. 

“Please what, padawan, I have plenty more exercises for you to do.”

“Please may we spar instead,” Obi-Wan’s voice teetered on a beg, he looked almost dizzy, but seemed to have learned already that begging Qui-Gon would achieve very little, at least in moments like this.

“Of course, pet,” Qui-Gon replied, helping Obi-Wan up off the floor before stripping off his own shit, partly because he preferred to spar without it, and partly because he knew it only wound Obi-Wan tighter. 

Obi-Wan struggled through their sabre bouts, not even coming close to his usual level of skill, crashing down to his knee with a delightful keen the first time he lunged for an opening in Qui-Gon’s defences that he had deliberately left. His arms were shaking, and he had the naivety to look relieved when Qui-Gon turned off his saber, and put them both to the side of the room, only to turn to despair when Qui-Gon turned them to hand to hand combat instead. 

There was none of Obi-wan’s usual acrobatics and his padawan worked almost entirely on the defensive, reacting too slowly to almost all of Qui-Gon’s attacks, like his muscles were moving through syrup instead of air. Qui-Gon took advantage, taking every opportunity to wrestle Obi-Wan to to floor, to wrap his hands around any part of Obi-Wan he could reach and manhandle him freely, until Obi-Wan was barely fighting back through his haze and moans.

“Master please,” Obi-Wan eventually begged again, the sound sweet to Qui-Gon’s ears as he grabbed him around the waist and slammed him up against the wall of the salle, holding Obi-Wan’s hands above his head in a tight hold, the other laid menacingly, but not pressing, around Obi-Wan’s neck. 

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?” Qui-Gon asked and Obi-Wan nodded frantically. “You’d like to come, is that what you’re saying please for, pet?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan panted, crying out with relief as Qui-Gon pressed his thigh between Obi-Wan’s legs, enough for him to rut against. 

“Hmm, yes, you’ve taken it so well, you can come padawan, but you’re going to do it right here, or not at all,” Qui-Gon replied, moving his hand from Obi-Wan’s neck to push down his pants and underwear, his padawan not protesting to his cock being exposed in the middle of the training salle. 

“O-okay,” he whimpered, eyes rolling as Qui-Gon, lifting him right to his toes with his thigh, hands still pinned to the wall. 

Qui-Gon smirked and chuckled at Obi-Wan, even as his own cock began to ache with need, as he came within seconds of Qui-Gon cupping his hand around his cock for him to rut into. Obi-Wan’s face filled up with embarrassment, he had began to take a little longer to come nowadays, but his padawan had been on edge for hours, and Qui-Gon loved still having such control over him. 

He held his hand up to Obi-Wan’s mouth, letting his padawan greedily lick his hand clean of his own mess, and he didn’t even have to prompt his perfect padawan, before he dropped to his knees and opened his mouth, their semi-public location apparently entirely forgotten by him. 

As his move on the Hutts drew closer, Qui-Gon found himself pulled away from Obi-Wan to work more often. All the pieces had to be in place for this to work. When he had taken it to Sidious, his plan to wipe the rival gang out, it was clear that the wrinkled wart of a sith hadn’t believed he could do it, and Qui-Gon knew that he had only said yes because it brought him nothing but amusement to see his own sith killed. 

But Qui-Gon knew it would work, and he had combed over the plan with his old master for long hours until they were certain it was air tight. Agents planted in the Hutts organisation, undercutting them in secret deals to everyone they worked with, well placed threats, explosives and sleep agents ready to cut off their access to every part of the underworld trade they controlled. 

The sith - Darth Avarus - had already monopolised the slave and spice trades away from the Hutts, which had created tension, the declining family of repugnant slugs desperate to keep a grip on bounty hunting and gambling at least, clever enough to offer Qui-Gon beneficial deals and cuts of their business, stupid enough to believe that he would settle for that in the long term. 

But the outer rim was their home territory, they spawned from it’s chaos and lawlessness, where Qui-Gon had only adapted to it, and bringing his ironclad order to the underbelly of the area had been difficult, but he hadn’t failed yet, and soon every bounty hunter and every gambling den in the outer rim would be his too. Then he would finally be able to turn his attention to Mandalore.

With all the pieces moving into place and preparing to strike, Qui-Gon was afforded less time with Obi-Wan during the day, and even stealing him away some nights, leaving Obi-Wan to play with himself and Qui-Gon wishing he had installed cameras in his own bedroom. 

This day was sadly one of them, an agent in Jabba's palace on Tatooine required step by step handling for what he needed to do today, and Qui-Gon trusted no one but himself to do it, no matter how Xanatos had insisted he was able. So he left Obi-Wan in the early hours of the morning, leaving a note for Obi-Wan on the bedside table, along with the tub of slick Obi-Wan had shyly admitted he preferred a few days before, and the small plug he was now able to easily take. 

He didn’t see his pet all day - unable to get away for lunch or dinner, much to his own chagrin, and Xanatos’ chafing pleasure as he brought him his meals - and it was late when he returned, but he was glad to see Obi-Wan still up, reading in bed and waiting for him. He smiled, and put down the datapad when he heard Qui-Gon come in. 

“Master,” he greeted happily, he was wearing one of Qui-Gon’s old training shirts, large on him and gaping at the neck, leaving his entire left shoulder exposed. 

“Good evening pet,” Qui-Gon greeted, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips before stripping off and climbing into bed beside him, wasting no time before pulling his padawan into his lap. “Thank you for waiting up for me, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Obi-Wan replied blushing as Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at the bare skin that met his thighs, Obi-Wan apparently only wearing a shirt tonight. Qui-Gon pushed the covers away enough to see more clearly, the pal thighs that stretched out the bottom of the shirt, just over-long enough to cover Obi-Wan’s cock and ass. 

“Did you have a nice day?” Qui-Gon asked, feeling the desire to check in as he had been occupied all day.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, but there was a beat of hesitation before his answer that failed to slip past Qui-Gon. 

“Tell me,” Qui-Gon said, letting a hand splay out over Obi-Wan’s thigh, running his thumb in circles on the soft inside. 

“It was nothing.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“It’s just, I wish you had told me I wasn’t allowed in the cockpit,” Obi-Wan said in a rush. “But it’s fine, it doesn’t matter.”

“What are you talking about?” Qui-Gon asked, he had been clear with Obi-Wan on the three rooms he was not permitted to enter, and the cockpit certainly had not been among them. 

“I was just exploring the ship, and I thought I would go in and talk to the pilot, I never finished my flight training after all, and I got told off.”

“Who told you off, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, keeping his voice calm. 

“I don’t know his name,” Obi-Wan sighed. “I’m sorry, it doesn’t matter, and I’m sorry for trying to go in there, I just don’t like being shouted at like that, I promise I wouldn’t have tried to go in if I had known.”

“Pet, you are allowed to go into the cockpit. What did the individual who thought it his place to scold you look like,” Qui-Gon asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous cadence that Obi-Wan picked up on, sitting up more straight in his arms. 

“No, master it doesn’t matter. It was nothing, just a mistake. I’m fine.”

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon’s voice bordered on a growl, and he was surprised when Obi-wan started pressing kisses to the corner of his mouth.

“Please master, I don’t want to cause trouble. Please just let it go, no one was hurt,” Obi-Wan pleaded, and Qui-Gon knew he wasn’t going to let it go, there was no chance of that, but he could at least let it sit until morning, to make Obi-Wan happy. 

“If you wish, pet,” Qui-Gon lied, letting himself be drawn into proper kisses, and keeping Obi-Wan in his lap that evening as he worked the fourth plug into his hole, nearly ready for the fifth - and he hoped that after a full night with the fourth plug snug his his ass, he might be able to take it in the morning. 

Obi-Wan came all over himself as he was stretched on the fourth plug, more than once, and Qui-Gon added his own release to the mess, stroking his cock and coming on Obi-Wan’s spent little cock, which twitch valiantly at the action. He was a sticky mess, and Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose at the way it tangled in his pubic hair, made it catch and itch, enough that when Qui-Gon purred in his ear, asking if he would prefer to be shaved smooth, Obi-Wa hesitantly nodded. 

The next morning he made good on his offer, laying his padawan out on a pillow, blushing violently as Qui-Gon smothered him in shaving cream and set to work with a sharp blade, working over Obi-Wan’s most sensitive areas, hushing his padawan when his cock became hard and Obi-Wan embarrassed as Qui-Gon simply shifted it out of his way. He didn’t stop until his padawan was completely smooth, pressing a kiss to the newly hairless skin at the base of his cock and soothing the skin with a damp towel. 

Obi-Wan was nearly wordless, reaching out with demanding hands and spreading his legs, asking for attention that Quigon gave willingly. He showered Obi-Wan with praise as he took the fifth plug, Obi-Wan clinging to him and whimpering out  _ big _ as Qui-Gon stroked his cock with it inside him, gently pulling it free after Obi-Wan had come, knowing it would be too much for his sweet padawan to wear for more time than that.

His comm bleated at him shortly after he had spent himself on Obi-Wan’s eager face, able now to shallowly fuck his mouth. It interrupted Obi-Wan’s afterglow, snuggled into Qui-Gon’s arms and dozing adorably as he drifted in that soft headspace, and he blinked up at Qui-Gon, clearly not yet back from that place. 

Obi-Wan was vulnerable from the intimacy of the shaving, intensified by the way his skin would be tingling from it, hypersensitive from the run of the blade. Combined with his orgasm, how sweet he had been in Qui-Gon’s arms and sucking on his cock, Qui-Gon was more than regretful he had to leave him for the day, more work to be done before they could destroy the Hutts.

Looking down on Obi-Wan’s limp form, snuffling and clearly dancing on the fringes of subspace, Qui-Gon regretted having done something so new and intimate when he couldn’t stay to pamper him afterwards. 

“Pet,” he purred, running a hand through Obi-Wan’s growing hair, his padawan immediately nuzzling into the gesture. On the bedside table, his comm buzzed again and Qui-Gon scowled, but when he checked it, and saw that one of his key agents was compromised, he knew he had to go. 

He tucked Obi-Wan under the covers and kissed his temple, and when his padawan tried to reach clumsily for his hand, he kissed him again, before maneuvering a pillow into Obi-Wan’s arms instead. 

“Stay here, pet,” Qui-gon instructed, though he was not sure how well Obi-Wan comprehended him, cuddling into his pillow and barely awake, let alone cognizant. “You have your pillow, don’t you,” Qui-Gon coaxed, and Obi-Wan just barely nodded at him. “Pet listen to me now,” Qui-Gon instructed, stroking Obi-Wan’s cheek when he dutifully looked up properly. “Good boy. Now, this is important, if you start to feel bad in any way, I want you to comm me right away. I’m leaving it on the table, do you understand.”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan sighed, his eyes already dropping closed. 

It was at least a real emergency that had called him away from his room so suddenly; one of his sleeper agents had been activated early, and been caught by the Hutt Menull Beh. Qui-Gon knew they likely only had a matter of hours before the Hutt successful extracted information from the agent. He had to move fast, mobilising the best assassins he knew, and ones that he knew would be fool enough to come directly for their reward, so that Darth Avarus would be able to eliminate them also. The less people knew, the better.

When he had dealt with the crisis, the compromised agent terminated before he could let slip anything, Qui-Gon pulled up the camera footage recording the entrance to the cockpit. It was simple enough for Qui-Gon to identity the individual who had decided he had any right to  _ speak _ to his padawan, let alone scold him for some imagined slight. Qui-Gon felt his blood boil, when watching the footage he saw Obi-Wan not only snapped at, but his hand quite literally slapped away from the door. 

“Bring Sha’or to my office,” Qui-Gon said through the comm to one of his officers, voice clipped and low as he tried to control his rage, at least for the moment. He felt fire in his veins when the offending grunt marched into his office. 

“Lord Avarus, what can I do for you.”

“You can tell me why you thought it acceptable to lay a hand on my padawan.”

“My lord, he was attempingt to enter the cockpit unauthorised.”

“He was authorised,” Qui-Gon replied, voice cold, enjoying the sight of fear leaching into this worm’s pinched face. 

“My lord, I apologise, I-” Sha’or’s words were cut off as Qui-Gon held up a hand and wrapped a of force around his throat, choking him with the force, watching the panic begin to set in as Qui-Gon didn’t relent in his hold. He scrambled uselessly, pathetically, at his throat as the realisation dawned that Qui-Gon had no intention of stopping. 

Capillaries in his eyes were bursting, turning the white red as he was suffocated, unable to even turn his head as the door unexpectedly opened, the last of the life choked out of him. 

“Master, I was wonder- master no! Stop!” Obi-Wan shouted, voice overflowing with alarm and fear, enough that Qui-Gon did drop Sha’or, who collapsed to the floor wheezing desperately. Obi-Wan was not supposed to  _ be _ here, and he could -  _ would  _ \- finish with Sha’or later. 

“Pet, what are you doing here,” Qui-Gon demanded, irritated, before barking at Sha’or gulping in air on the floor. “Get out of my sight.” Sha’or crawled out the door and Obi-Wan rocked back a step. “Not you, padawan, come here.”

“No! You were, you were going to kill him! He didn’t even do anything to me, he didn’t- ” Obi-Wan sobbed in a breath, and there was a note to his voice that Qui-Gon had learned well over the past weeks; his padawan had walked in on something he wasn’t in the right mindset to be able to deal with easily.

“Padawan, come here,” Qui-Gon repeated, firmer, knowing he would be able to calm Obi-Wan more swiftly with contact, his padawan beginning to hyperventilate, dancing on the edge of a potentially bad drop. 

“No! No you hurt people, you hurt people and you shouldn’t. It’s bad! I didn’t mean for him to get hurt, I didn’t mean - ”

“Hush padawan,” Qui-Gon said, voice hard enough that Obi-Wan’s breathing startled, the hitch helping him breathe a little more normally. Qui-Gon gentled his voice before he continued, though it remained firm. “You are a clever boy, and you have always known what I am. You’re still feeling vulnerable, aren’t you?” A hesitant nod from his apprentice, his lower lip trembling dangerously, tears beginning to slip. “That is making this seem worse than it is. Now, you have two choices pet, you can either come here and I will help you to calm down, or you can go back to your room and sulk about something you already knew. Which will it be?”

Obi-Wan hesitated, and Qui-Gon didn’t like it, didn’t like the idea of his pet choosing to sulk, and hated knowing the viscous drop that was likely to come with it; but it always had to be his choice to come to Qui-Gon, no matter the situation, of that he was adamant. Obi-Wan rocked on the balls of his feet, unsure, chewing harshly on his lip, crying a little and beginning to sniffle, and Qui-Gon was more relieved than he should have been, when his padawan finally stumbled forward hesitantly. 

He came into Qui-Gon’s arms, sitting himself in his lap easily and starting to cry more heavily as Qui-Gon cradled and rocked him, burying his face in Qui-Gon’s neck, his skin quickly becoming wet with tears. With the press of a button he locked his door, unwilling to let anyone else see his pet like this, shaking in his arms. 

He would have to be either more careful about what Obi-Wan saw, or less. He was always going to be a sith, if his sweet boy was going to react like this each time he caught a glimpse, then he either needed to never see it again, or desensitise to it entirely. Qui-Gon knew that the extremeness of his pet’s reaction was because he had still been in subspace, but he had a suspicion that even when he was his normal self, Obi-Wan deliberately refused to think about the things Qui-Gon did. 

It needed to be addressed, but not right away - and couldn't be, in this moment anyway - so instead Qui-Gon focused on holding his padawan, and dampening the severity of the drop that had him crying and clinging to Qui-Gon’s clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is more padabooty, there might also be a collar, and we'll be trundling back over to hoe-bi-wan's pov (◡‿◡✿)
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, your comments are better than sleep, which is what explains how we got here so fast <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments + my eyes reading them = eternal happiness (and more updates) I LOVE YOU GUYS
> 
> Your reward for being so nice to me is even more porn you lucky devils (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> Includes: lite somno, lite exhibitionism, hand feeding, subspace, the Return of the Pillow

Obi-Wan hadn’t seen the man who had snapped at him and ordered him away from the cockpit in nearly three days. It could mean nothing, of course, he didn't mix much with the crew, certainly didn't see all of them every three days - in fact he was fairly sure there were people on this ship that even after months of being here, he had never seen.

So it could be nothing. Whoever that man was could be anywhere on the ship, could easily be under orders from Avarus not to come anywhere near Obi-Wan. But still, Obi-Wan hadn't seen hide nor hair of him for three days, and he wondered if really, he knew exactly what had happened to him, and just didn't want to think about it.

It was like his master said, though he had been too upset at the time to really process it, he had always known what Avarus was, his yellow eyes and red saber a constant reminder of that fact. Obi-Wan had decided that it was worth it in order to be trained, and he found himself holding on tighter than he had since he first stepped foot aboard Jinn's ship, to his goal of becoming a jedi.

He was learning valuable things about how the sith functioned, had seen other darths on the ship occasionally, Dooku and Maul primarily, making him wonder if it didn't have to be Jinn that he passed over to the jedi after all. Because though he turned his mind from that also, the thought of himself being the betrayer in their relationship, left something lodged uncomfortably in his chest

Obi-Wan reminded himself, sternly, that there was no emotion, only the force; though it felt weak even to his own ears.

He remembered again, the way Avarus had been choking the life out of the pilot, truly seeing for the first time the way the older man used the dark, felt so at home in it. It had been easy to forget, up to that point, that Jinn was a sith at all. More passionate than a jedi, certainly, and free and unapologetic in his desires, but he had always been so gentle with Obi-Wan, even when he had been spanking his rear, there had been something gentle about it, Obi-Wan thought with a blush.

But there was nothing gentle about what Obi-Wan had seen in his office - the office Xanatos had so helpfully told him was where his master was currently located - and it left half of Obi-Wan chilled, and the other half filled up with something else entirely, that made his heart race, but he wasn't sure how to name.

Obi-Wan shook himself out of the thoughts, Jinn was his only option if he wanted to receive training in the force, and he desperately did, he had to let go of what he had seen a few days ago in order to achieve that. He took a deep breath in his meditation and attempted to release the thoughts to the force. In reality, the pilot worked on a sith ship, severed the sith's mob empire, so surely, the galaxy was a better place without him anyway.

As for Xanatos. Obi-Wan was sure it had been his intention to have Obi-Wan walk in on what he had, that he had intended to drive a rift between himself and his master, though Obi-Wan was not sure why. The other man still offered him insults whenever his master was out of earshot, still sneered whenever he was sure he wouldn't be seen. But Obi-Wan was now even more reluctant to tell his master about it than he had been before. The best case scenario was that Obi-Wan had another man's death on his conscience, the worst was that his discovered that his master valued Xanatos and his work more highly than his foolish apprentice who was attempting still to become a jedi. Neither option appealed to Obi-wan at all.

So instead, he worked hard to reach a deeper meditation. He would let go of the guilt and concern over the pilot, wherever he might be or not be, and he resolved to simply pay no attention to Xanatos, learn how to exist in close proximity with the angry man without getting himself burned again for the duration of his time on the ship, however long that might be.

He had, at first, tried to distance himself from his master, just a little, to feel a little lees like he was living in his pocket, like he was an item that belonged to the sith, instead of a padawan. And Jinn was busy enough at the moment that it had been easy enough to do without Jinn even seeming to notice - or he just hadn't cared. But the truth was, without his master, he was frightfully lonely.

The ship was full of strangers - and strangers that were predisposed not to like him - he was allowed to contact his friends back on Bandomeer, but when his master had given him the requested comm unit and he had made the call to Ralas, all that had greeted him was concern and badgering, scorn at his explanation that he wished to be trained as a jedi. He knew his friend meant well, but he refused to understand the situation, was determined to see Obi-Wan as some unwilling hostage, so eventually he had stopped calling - attachment was forbidden anyway.

So last night he had fallen into his master's arms again, had felt like he came alive at the touch, and it was easy, to let his worries and concerns fall away under the attention of those large hands, so soft against his skin, so attuned to what he wanted.

Letting his meditating mind sink into the way his master could make him feel when they were intimate, so completely out of his head, light enough that he sometimes feared he would float away - in many ways, it was better than meditation, for calming him down and centring his thought - Obi-Wan was finally, truly able to let go of what he had seen a few days previously.

Blinking his eyes open he found himself smiling, feeling better than he had in days, and finding it easy to turn over in bed - the jedi would never approve of a meditation being taken lying down, and in such a comfortable place, but Obi-Wan had began to decide that there were some things the jedi avoided for no good reason at all - and face his master.

He was still asleep and Obi-Wan studied his profile, the proud bridge of his nose, the length of his well-kept beard, the set of his lips. Obi-Wan had felt attraction to people in the past, but it was nothing compared to how he felt about his master, the pull of those others had been to the way he felt looking at his master what a magnet is to a gravitational field. There was no comparison.

That his master could have anyone, but shared his bed with Obi-Wan on a nightly basis, was nothing short of a miracle to him. It made him feel warm, he didn't know if his master was still having rendezvous with Xanatos - and Obi-Wan knew it was not his place to ask, much less complain, as he still couldn't give his master his whole body, though he grew increasingly impatient with that aspect of his training - but he found himself hoping desperately that he didn't, that he could give his master everything that he was seeking in a companion, and not only so that he would have to tolerate Xanatos' presence less.

It was with that thought, that Obi-Wan let his hand roam around his master's broad, defined chest, running his index finger in circles around one of Jinn's nipples, they weren't as sensitive as his own - Obi-Wan entire body a live wire compared to his master's - but he had discovered in moments when Qui-Gon had been reading and left Obi-Wan to explore him at his leisure, that his master did like them to be touched.

Shifting around easily - his master had so far refused to let him sleep wearing any of the larger plugs he was able to take - Obi-Wan propped himself up on one arm, and pressed a kiss to his master's chest, licking across one of his nipples and then blowing over it, making the damp skin pebble up and turn hard. Obi-Wan let his hand rest on Jinn's chest, running a finger over the his now hard nipple, smiling as his master's breathing grew heavier, and he groaned softly in his sleep.

It spurred Obi-Wan on, pushing down the covers so that he could see his cock, so big even when soft, and Obi-Wan couldn't help the way his attention turned greedily from his nipples to his cock. He liked it when his master was soft, something he had been teased about relentlessly, and didn't get to enjoy often as his attention had his master thickening and growing.

He knew he wouldn't have long, that Jinn would wake up, a light sleeper despite the floating fortress he practically lived in - then again, how trustworthy could all the sith loyalists aboard really be? So Obi-Wan wrapped his hand around his master’s soft shaft before he could talk himself out of it through sheer embarrassment alone. Even soft, he struggled to get his hand around the girth of it, but it was enough for him to hold Jinn’s cock, to reposition it so that it rested against his master’s hip. 

Obi-Wan pressed a finger to the tip, playing with the foreskin that covered it while soft, leaning forward to replace his finger with his tongue and taste his master. He sucked gently, unable to resist for long when his master was in his mouth, and when he pulled back to continue his exploration, he felt caught between warring emotions of pleased and disappointed, to find his master’s cock getting hard. His foreskin was drawing back with his growing arousal, and Obi-Wan had to use his hand to push in back up, so that his tongue could return to what it had been doing. 

Obi-Wan pulled back again, pouting - not that Jinn was awake to see him - as his cock grew too hard for him to play with him in the same way, so instead Obi-Wan licked at the now exposed head of his cock, his own leaving a wet patch against the bedding as his cock leaked from his excitement; if he were awake, his master would be teasing him for it. A part of Obi-Wan wished that he were awake, but this was a fun game as well, and one he knew his master enjoyed.

After lapping at him a few times, gathering the addictive taste of his master on his tongue, Obi-Wan took him into his mouth, sucking on the tip with a little whimper he couldn’t seem to help, which heated up his cheeks. He had done this so much, he had grown less hesitant about asking to do it as he had realised how much his master enjoyed his mouth, and Qui-Gon never rejected him; though he did sometimes offer up a different plan. 

With his newfound experience, he had gotten better at the act, his master guiding him through breathing through his nose and suppressing his gag reflex, until now he was able to take almost three quarters of his master’s cock in his mouth and throat. It made his eyes water and his lips sore with the stretch, but it also made him feel content and nearly mad with arousal, still coming on a hair trigger when his master let him suck on him for a long time. 

He wanted to wake his master up, so that he could be stretched again, so that he could finally have his master’s cock inside of him. The previous night he had taken the fifth plug again, his master ignoring his frustrated whines as he insisted he was ready for the next. In truth, he felt like he was ready for his master, and he was only being teased at this point. The fifth plug made him feel impossibly open, and his master had teased him over and over for how it left his hole gaping; surely that meant that he was ready.

Obi-Wan pulled off his master’s cock and rummaged in the bedside drawer for the lube, slicking up his own fingers and pressing one against his hole. He wasn’t as good at this as his master was, likely never would be, but he wanted something inside him, and he knew his master would like waking up to the sight. Obi-Wan was never in trouble, when he woke Jinn with his mouth around his cock, on the rare occasion he had woken first, and he knew how nice it was, from the few times he had woken with Jinn’s big fingers already inside him, or playing with a plug he’d slept in. 

Obi-Wan balanced as best he could as he took his master’s fat cock back into his mouth as he fucked himself on one finger clumsily, he didn’t suckle anymore, mouth greedy as he intentionally worked to wake his master up, moaning happily when a large hand found its way to his messy hair, trapped at a length that seemed perpetually untidy, but hid his tiny braid. 

“Greedy.” Was the first word out of his master’s mouth, voice pleasantly rough with sleep, his hand guiding the speed and depth of Obi-Wan’s bobbing head for a few moments, before pulling Obi-Wan off and kissing his swollen lips. “You’re very needy this morning,” Jinn said, watching the way Obi-Wan’s hand was working behind himself hungrily. “Is this what happens when you go just two days without me, because of your little strop?” His master teased, and Obi-Wan flushed, feeling silly about his avoidance, feeling sillier for thinking his master hadn’t noticed. 

“Want you,” Obi-Wan mumbled, in an attempt to change the subject.

“I can see that, pet,” Jinn chuckled, carding fingers through his hair before moving to sit up against the headboard. “What would you like me to do.”

“Please fuck me master, I’m ready, please,” Obi-Wan begged, ducking forward to mouth sloppily at the base of Qui-Gon’s cock and his heavy balls. 

“No, pet, soon but not yet,” Jinn replied, laughing at Obi-Wan’s impatient whine. 

“Master  _ please _ ,” Obi-Wan whimpered, clambering into Qui-Gon’s lap, wrapping his arms around his master’s neck and grinding his ass back against his cock. “I want you, I want you to fuck me so much. It’s all I think about, please.”

“I said no, padawan, and begging prettily is not going to change that. I will however plug up this needy little hole of yours, hopefully that will make you less desperate,” he replied, reaching for the slick and coating two fingers.

“Master no,” Obi-Wan complained, words degenerating into a moan as Qui-Gon pressed two fingers inside him, he was loose enough from the previous night that it didn’t hurt, but the stretch was intense, and he had to rest his head on his master’s shoulder and breathe for a moment before finding his words again. “I don’t want another plug, I want your cock,” he whined, voice hitching, and Jinn laughed that low, rumbling chuckle at him again. 

“I know you do pet, but you have to be patient,” Qui-Gon said, pressing over Obi-Wan’s sweet spot and making him writhe in his lap as he slipped a third finger inside. 

“It’s been weeks, I want you now.”

“Padawan, do not be a  _ brat _ .”

“I just want your cock master, please, I’ll be so good I promise,” Obi-Wan begged again, though his voice was demanding not soft, and he cried out as his master pushed a fourth finger inside his hole. 

“No.”

“Masteeer,” Obi-Wan barely recognised the sound of his own voice, knew he would be humiliated by the way he was behaving, how wantonly - and demandingly - he was begging for his master’s cock, and against his instructions. But right now he couldn’t stop himself, his mind fixed on one though, his ass aching to be filled, even as Jinn stretched him on four fingers. 

He was not expecting the growl that came from his master, not his fingers to be withdrawn so rapidly, leaving Obi-Wan feeling empty and exposed as he cried out in protest. His master took hold of him, and threw him down on the bedding, making him bounce a little with the force of it; for a second, Obi-Wan thought he had made a huge mistake, pushed his master too far, annoyed him too much, been too disobedient, but as the panic tried to grip him, so did Qui-Gon’s hands, manhandling Obi-Wan’s hips until he was on his knees with his face still pressed into the bedding. 

“You continue to beg me even when I have given you a clear answer?” Jinn growled and Obi-Wan gasped as he felt the fat head of his master’s cock finally pressing up against his stretched hole. 

“Please master, please,” Obi-Wan pleaded, rolling his hips back. 

“Do you think you know better than me?”

“N-no?” Obi-Wan said, his mind was getting foggy as his master became more dominating, all he wanted was to give up control and to have that cock inside him. 

“But you do, padawan. I tell you you aren’t ready and you insist that we are. Shall we see who knows best?” Jinn said, voice low and dangerous, and Obi-Wan’s breath hitched as his master pushed forward. 

It was intense and Obi-Wan cried out, half in arousal, half in panic; his master was right, and even just the very tip of his cock burned, tried to stretch Obi-Wan’s hole beyond its current limits. The fifth plug was so big, felt so huge in his hole that he had been so sure he was ready, but as Jinn put yet more pressure on Obi-Wan’s rim - still too tight to let him in, despite the four finger’s he’d had in his ass - Obi-Wan wailed out and squirmed away, his master’s hands letting him go easily. 

He panted into the bedding, feeling like he had let his master down more than any other failure in the past. 

“Master, master I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not ready, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan babbled, his cock was still hard and he wanted his master desperately, and Obi-Wan tried to discreetly wipe off his tears on the pillowcase; but of course his master noticed. 

“Shh pet, I forgive you, it’s okay,” his master soothed, turning him onto his back and kissing away his tears. “I know how needy you are, and I love how much you want my cock, but you need to learn to listen to me, don’t you?” His master was between his legs, Obi-Wan’s thighs resting on his own, contact all along their bodies; it soothed Obi-Wan, took away his sniffles more quickly, though he felt himself sinking into his vulnerable headspace, needy even by his own standards. 

“Yes master.”

“I like it when you beg me, sweet one, but you need to learn when a no is final.”

“I’m sorry, I thought I could, I - ”

“I know.”

“I should be able to do it by now,” Obi-Wan whimpered, one of his real insecurities raising its head as he lost more and more of his inhibitions. “I’m sorry it’s taking me so long. What if I can’t ever do it?”

“Oh pet no,” his master replied, pulling Obi-Wan up into his arms to hold him more fully, cradling Obi-wan in his lap in the middle of the bed, running soothing hands down his back. “You are perfect, and you’re doing perfectly for me. But look pet, look at how small you are in my arms,” his master said, turning Obi-wan’s face to look in the mirror, to see just how his master dwarfed him, how thoroughly he could be wrapped up in those arms. 

“You’re really big,” Obi-Wan grumbled, he had never thought he was  _ that _ small, before he met his master. Jinn chuckled at him, pressed a kiss to his nose. 

“Yes I am, which is the other reason why your little body needs to relax. But I promise you pet, in another week or so, you  _ will _ be able to take my cock, and I will fuck that pretty little hole of yours until you’re finally satisfied.”

“Promise?” Obi-Wan mumbled, kissing at his master’s neck. 

“Yes pet, I promise. Now, would you like the fifth plug again, or would you like to see if you can manage the largest one?” His master asked him, but Obi-Wan’s mind had slipped again, even less inclined to answer questions than it had been half a minute ago. 

“Big,” Obi-Wan mumbled, in answer to nothing, because it was the only word that came to mind. 

“Yes,” his master chuckled. “Do you want me to decide for you?” He asked, sensing Obi-Wan was floating away easily and Obi-Wan nodded into his shoulder. 

Jinn laid him back down on the bed, having to take Obi-Wan’s clinging hands off of him, Obi-Wan feeling like his limbs were acting without any input from his mind, which felt emptier and calmer than it ever did in meditation. With big, gentle hands, he spread Obi-Wan’s legs wide, lifting him so that he could move a pillow under Obi-Wan’s hips. 

“Good boy,” he purred, making Obi-Wan’s skin buzz with a happy feeling. “I’m going to fuck your little hole with the fifth one, I think, and then when you’re nice and loose and have come, I’m going to see if that hole of yours will take the largest plug. Then when I’m done, you can suck on my cock until I come.”

“Please,” Obi-Wan managed, keeping his legs open, his gaping hole on view for his master. 

“Good,” Jinn praised, reaching for the correct toy and making it slick. As he worked it into Obi-Wan’s hole, Obi-Wan couldn’t help his keen, throwing his head back against the pillow and rocking his hips down, it wasn’t so different in size from four of his fingers, but then his master started fucking him with it fast and rough, more rough than he usually was, with a firm hand on Obi-Wan’s hip. 

Obi-Wan moaned as his master drove the plug into his prostate over and over, making him jerk and shudder at the intense sensation, feeling embarrassment creep over him as he felt ready to come already, even though he had started to get better and lasting at least a little longer. 

But his master didn’t stop or slow down, didn’t tease Obi-Wan with the edge, instead Qui-Gon took his cock in a firm hold and stroked it in time with his thrusts of the toy, smiling as Obi-Wan wailed and gasped as his cock spurted out ropes of come onto his abdomen, his master still fucking him with the toy and massaging his aching sac with a gentle hand until Obi-Wan body turned too sensitive, and he whined and wiggled away from his touch. 

As Obi-Wan lay boneless on the bed, he felt his master pull the toy from his hole and press another, larger one against it. His master told him to bear down and breathe, and Obi-Wan fought his way through the haze in his mind to try and obey. His body was sensitive, screamed at him when the largest plug pushed past his rim, making him burn at the stretch, but it also felt so good to be so full, and as the sensations rolled over him, Obi-Wan found the pleasure just outweighed the discomfort. 

The plug felt impossibly large inside him and Obi-Wan whimpered, slipping the last step entirely into subspace as it filled him up completely, his master praising him as he took all of the toy, relentlessly pressed against his prostate until he felt as though he couldn’t really hear or see the world around him anymore. 

“So perfect, you’re so perfect pet,” his master praised, and Obi-Wan felt dizzy with it, but he still managed to notice his master stroking himself, even though that wasn’t what was suppose to happen. 

“Master,” he whimpered in protest, tugging weakly at his master’s hips. 

“Is it too much, little one?” His master asked, concern creasing his brow, and Obi-Wan shook his head. “What is it, then?” He asked, stroking Obi-Wan’s cheek. Obi-Wan didn’t like words when he was like this, they were difficult to catch and even harder to form. So instead he opened his mouth and stroked clumsily at his master’s hard cock. “Are you sure pet, you seem overwhelmed.”

“Want it,” Obi-Wan managed, oddly proud of himself for finding the words.

He cried out when his master moved his plaint body around, every movement shifting the plug around inside him, sending flashes of white hto pleasure up his spine, his cock already taking interest again. But he was glad when his master got him settled between his legs and fed Obi-Wan his cock, immediately feeling more grounded, and less like he was going to float away. 

His master did most of the work, stroking his cock into Obi-Wan’s mouth as he suckled at the head, even sitting him up a little when he was about to come so that Obi-Wan didn’t choke. He drank his master down, licking his lips and wondering if his master would ever let him do that for longer, kneel between his legs and suck on his cock all day, but he worried, even in this state, that that was not a normal thing to want, and kept it to himself.

“Come on pet, lets get you dressed for breakfast,” his master said after he had wiped the spend off of Obi-Wan’s abdomen and face, Obi-Wan having sucked his master’s cock clean already.

“Master?” He managed to say, staring up at him in confusion, whimpering pathetically as Qui-Gon moved him to sit at the edge of the bed, the plug pressing inside of him more acutely when he was sat, leaving him squirming and his cock hard again.

“You need to have breakfast, and I would like you to try and wear the plug through the meal, do you think you can?” He asked, guiding Obi-Wan’s legs into his pants. 

“O-okay,” Obi-Wan agreed, he wanted to make his master happy, and he liked the way the plug felt, even if it made him drift.

His master dressed him, Obi-Wan’s limbs pliant but otherwise uncooperative as they were guided into various holes in the fabric. When his master deemed him satisfactorily dressed, he looked down at the tent in Obi-Wan’s pants before putting Obi-Wan on his feet - listing instantly into his master for support - and tugged them back down to expose his cock. 

“Do you think you’re going to come again?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan nodded, cheeks heating, looking down at his feet and trying to cover his needy cock, leaking. “You can if you like, come with me to breakfast and come whenever you want to. Or, if that’s too much, I can give you something to stop your greedy cock from coming, would you prefer that?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan shuffled his feet before nodding shyly, it would be embarrassing to mess up his clothes like that when he was meant to be eating his food. 

His master sat him back on the edge of the bed, worried he would fall and steadying him as the plug shifted again. When Obi-Wan was settled he went to one of his cupboards, coming back with a simple black ring that his master put on the base of Obi-Wan’s cock, making a small sound as his master secured it.

“Tight,” Obi-Wan mumbled, his cock feeling strange. 

“Yes pet. It will stop you from coming so easily, but it will also keep you hard, is that okay?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan nodded as he chewed at his lip. 

He held his master’s hand and they walked slowly to the dining hall, Obi-Wan hiding behind Qui-Gon and whimpering every time someone walked past until his master barked an order down the comm, and suddenly their way was clear of everything except the droids. He hadn’t  _ minded _ them, exactly, but the extra thing to think about, the way more eyes on him felt, made his cock hurt in the ring, even more than the plug already made him ache.

He didn’t even realise he was in the dining hall, until his master sat down in a chair, with Obi-Wan idling beside him. 

“I want to try something I think you’ll enjoy,” his master said, Obi-Wan having to work hard to process each word and nodding, as if moving through water not air, when he realised his master was waiting for him to understand. “I want you to sit at my feet, right here with me, and I’m going to feed you your breakfast, so you don’t have to worry about anything at all. Does that sound nice?” He asked, and Obi-wan nodded again, he liked eating from his master’s fingers, and this way he could rest his head against his leg too. 

His master found a cushion on one of the disused chairs, and placed it on the floor by his feet, helping Obi-Wan kneel down on shaky legs, praising him when Obi-Wan immediately rested his head against his master’s thigh and closed his eyes. 

The position made the plug press meanly against his sweet spot, and he knew he would have come without the ring, but it was making his cock ache and hurt a little, but Obi-Wan felt grounded when his master pressed the first bite of fruit to his lips, not even asking Obi-Wan to open his eyes. 

He was fed a variety of his favourite fruits, but what Obi-wan tasted most clearly was his master’s fingers, pressing the tips in with the small bites of food he offered Obi-Wan, letting him suckle on them to get all the juices, and just because he wanted to. It was easier like this, on his knees, head pillowed on his master’s thigh and being fed nice small bits of his favourite foods, he didn’t have to worry about anything at all. 

His master stopped feeding him - maybe he had run out, his mind wondered - and started stroking his hair instead, letting Obi-Wan rest there until his knees began to hurt, and he tried to shift around only to worsen the intensity of the plug and make hin whinge low in his throat, needily.

“Are you alright, my sweet?” His master said quietly, almost a whisper, but still feeling loud to Obi-Wan’s ears. 

“Hurts,” Obi-Wan whined, and then he felt hands under his armpits, and an assist in the force lifting him.

“Do you need the ring to come off, pet?” His master asked, after helping Obi-Wan up into his lap, and Obi-Wan chewed his lip nervously. It hadn’t even been an hour, but his cock was hard and the plug had him so stretched, filled him up so well that he was aching to come, but his cock couldn’t find release. It was starting to hurt, the soft place in his mind taking on an edge that he didn’t like, so he nodded at his master. 

“It hurts,” he mumbled, and Qui-Gon kissed his jaw. 

“Poor thing, would you like to come?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan nodded. 

He half expected his master to make him come then and there, in the middle of the dining room in full view of the servant that was studiously cleaning on the other side of the room. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when instead his master picked him up, and carried him back to their room, one of his hands was supporting Obi-Wan’s bottom, and it made the plug pressed inside him harder, Obi-Wan almost in tears by the time he was placed gently on the bed. 

“How would you like to come?” His master asked him, undressing Obi-Wan before laying him down properly on the bed.

“Do’ know,” Obi-Wan whined, words garbling as he started to cry a little, but his master seemed to understand and hushed him, stroking a hand down the length of his spine, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. . 

“I think you’re a little overstimulated,” his master said, but the word felt too big for Obi-Wan, and he didn’t think his master was really talking to him anyway. “I know what I think will make you feel good,” his master said, and Obi-Wan felt himself being rolled, protested at the movement before he found himself cuddling one of his master’s pillows, one leg slung over it, and blushed scarlet instead. 

“M’ster?”

“Make yourself feel good, pet, can you do that for me?” His master asked, sitting in his armchair next to the bed, watching Obi-Wan as he pulled his cock free of his pants and started to stroke himself.

Obi-Wan watched him, watching the way his big cock moved in his hand, and started to rub his hips against his pillow. He moaned loudly, caught off guard by the way his movements moved the toy inside him, stretching him wide and shifting against his sweet spot with every hitch of his hips.

It felt good, so good, and Obi-Wan sped up, watching as his master stroked his cock faster too, as if mimicking him as he made broken little noises into the bedding as he rubbed himself against his pillow, wrapping his arms around it and holding it more tightly so that he could move against it better.

Obi-Wan whined, his cock aching badly, something tight at his base stopping him from being able to come but he couldn’t remember what it was, and he chased his orgasm fruitlessly for long minutes, until he started to cry again, and big hands stopped him, rolling him over and taking the thing on his cock away.

He came quickly after that, humping his hips a couple of times, the sound of his master stroking his own cock fast loud in his ears as he whimpered, crying as his orgasm seemed like it assaulted every nerve in his body, making him white hot and hurt with the force of it. He shook apart, wailing and sobbing into the pillows as his body was wracked with huge tremors, his cock coming so much into the pillow. 

He wanted to keep rubbing against it until his cock was finished, but the plug in his ass was suddenly overwhelming, too much and demanding Obi-Wan be still, until he was making only barely there little rocks of his hips to keep that nice feeling in his cock for as long as possible, without moving the plug in his ass enough to keep pressing against his prostate, hurting and making Obi-Wan gasp and whimper every time it did.

He collapsed still after the longest climax of his life, mind a million miles away and crying with the force of his orgasm. A few moments later, he felt his master’s spend painting his back, and snuggled down into the pillow smiling, glad he had been good for Qui-Gon after all, before blacking out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's some top notch 'oh no my master is a sith' compartmentalising you got going on their obi, im sure thats gunna work out fine in the long term ⊙﹏⊙
> 
> next chapter might just be pound town folks, i think we've all earned it, especially hoe-bi-wan ¬‿¬


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME TO POUND TOWN GENTEEL READERS
> 
> Given the 50K of buildup that has preceded this, I dont think it can possibly live up to expectations, but I hope you enjoy it regardless
> 
> As always your comments are both balm and booster to me in these trying times <3 also its 2am and i have work in the morning so pls have pity on my typos

It was a full week of practicing taking the largest plug, day and night, before Obi-Wan found his patience running thin again. A week was a long time, and he had spent most of it in a blissed out haze hoping every time his master stretched him out that it might finally be the moment he deemed Obi-Wan ready.

Jinn had, evidently, not yet decided that that was the case, leading Obi-Wan to his latest conclusion; that there was no real harm in him begging him again. He figured that even in the worst case scenario, the only things that would happen would be that he was denied ( _ again _ ) and spanked for his impatience, which it turned out was no great deterrent to get Obi-Wan to stop doing something - probably exactly why his master continued to do it. 

And in the best case scenario, Obi-Wan finally got what he wanted. So really it seemed like he couldn’t lose no matter what happened, and so Obi-Wan was just biding his time looking for the perfect opportunity to try and entice his master. 

He knew he could mess up his katas again, but it was hard considering how much he liked it when his master praised him; and that he did struggle with some of the more advanced forms his master had shown him recently, so there was no guarantee he would even notice Obi-Wan was teasing him. He attempted to eat his lunch in a way that he imagined would be sultry, but only led to his master chuckling at him, and wiping jam from the corner of his mouth while Obi-Wan blushed with embarrassment. 

He tried asking for them to practice hand to hand combat during sparring after lunch, but his master just agreed that it was his weakest area, and needed the most practice. Besides, it was Obi-Wan who seemed to get flustered from sparring, not his master. He even asked Qui-Gon to join him for some meditation after dinner, hoping that he might be able to draw his master closer towards his mind and perhaps try to sneak a few illicit images from his mind to his master’s using the force. But Jinn had simple pressed a kiss to his temple and apologised, saying he had some matters to see to before he would be able to retire for the evening, and left Obi-Wan alone to mediate.

He had to conclude, by the end of the day and with the help of his meditation, that he simply wasn’t a very seductive individual. His master certainly hadn’t seemed to notice that Obi-Wan was trying to seduce him, probably because Obi-Wan well knew that if he wanted something from his master, he only had to ask. But this was something his master had been a little over cautious (in Obi-Wan’s personal, entirely inexperienced opinion) about giving him, so Obi-Wan had thought that a little extra incentive couldn’t hurt. 

More fool him, really. If there had been anyone on this ship that liked him - other than his master - even the smallest bit, he might have gone to them for help, but as it was, he was rather alone here. And force knew Ralas wouldn’t have been interested in the conversation, would only have lectured Obi-Wan on his questionable life choices yet again. 

Obi-Wan sighed after his meditation, before deciding that he really shouldn’t feel so sorry for himself, he rarely went a night - or morning - without being spoiled with pleasure by his master, and he had no reason to believe that this night would be any different, unless the business keeping Jinn away from meditation, kept him away long enough for Obi-Wan to fall asleep before he got back. 

Besides, Obi-Wan had a much better proven track record for seducing his master in the bedroom than he did anywhere else - even if it usually felt like he was the one being seduced. With that thought, Obi-Wan opened the doors to Qui-Gon’s rooms, wondering if they were also now  _ his _ rooms too, as most of his things had migrated over, and his master already in the room. 

He was standing beside one of the bedside tables and pouring out two generous glasses of rich Alderaan wine. He looked up when he heard Obi-Wan enter. 

“Did you have a nice meditation, pet?” He asked as he finished pouring, and returning the bottle to the chiller. 

“Yes. Your work didn’t take too long then?”

“I may have lied to you, or at least misled you, padawan.”

“What do you mean?”

“I let you think I had important business to attend to, and while what I was doing was undoubtedly important, I would not call it business,” his master replied, managing to explain absolutely nothing to Obi-Wan in the process.

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, having wandered over to his master, two large hands coming to settle on his waist. 

“I have been here, pet, making sure everything was as it should be?”

“You’re still not making any sense,” Obi-Wan huffed, letting himself be drawn up for a long kiss, that turned into four distinct kisses, increasingly deep and passionate, leaving Obi-Wan dizzy enough that he barely remembered what they had been talking about at all. 

“I think you’re ready, pet, would you like me to finally fuck you?” Jinn purred, and Obi-Wan felt himself still, an unexpected nervousness fighting with the excitement that raced up his spine and rooting him to the spot, frozen in his master’s hands. “We can wait if you prefer, padawan, but - ”

“No!” Obi-Wan sprang into action, throwing his arms around his master’s neck and kissing away his master’s amused chuckle. “No, I want it. Please.”

“Good,” Qui-Gon replied, pulling away from Obi-Wan’s embrace enough to reach the wine he had poured, passing one of the glasses to Obi-Wan, who looked up with a confused - and doubtless impatient - expression, which his master laughed at. “Patience pet, we have all night, and I am not going to rush this, no matter how nicely you ask me. Try the wine, it’s your favourite.”

It was, a rich red Alderaan vintage that paired well with all of his favourite treats, many of which sat in a little silver bowl beside the wine, but Obi-Wan was determined not to get distracted, hoping to coax his master into moving along a little faster by pulling at his belt. His master smiled, and brushed away his hands. 

“What did I just say, pet, be good now. Sit on the bed for me,” he instructed, taking Obi-Wan’s wine as he did as he was asked, perching on the edge of the bed, high enough from the floor that his feet didn’t quite touch the ground. 

His master stood in front of him, leaning down to kiss him, making Obi-Wan stretch up to reach as two large hands cupped his face. Qui-Gon kissed him like he had only meant to do it once, but as he tried to draw back from the single kiss, Obi-Wan had chased him with his lips, kissing him again and licking into his master’s mouth in a way that always has Jinn pushing back against him, and devouring Obi-Wan in return, fucking his tongue into Obi-Wan’s mouth and biting at his lips until Obi-Wan was panting, his mouth swollen, when his master did manage to pull away from him. 

“Perfect,” Jinn praised, rubbing a thumb against Obi-Wan’s swollen lower lip. “Now, I have a choice for you pet.”

“Yes master?”

“Tonight I am going to stretch you open as far as you’ll go, and I am going to take my time. I’m going to stretch you on my fingers, one by one, until that greedy hole of yours can take all four of them easily, and then I’m going to fuck you with the biggest plug we have to make sure you’re lose enough for my cock. And then, I am going to  _ finally _ sink my cock into your perfect little body, and fuck you for as long as I see fit. 

“Because you’re still so sensitive to my touch, your desperate cock is going to come more than once before I’ve even sunk my cock inside your tight body, and I think by the time I’m really fucking you, you’ll be too overwhelmed to properly enjoy it, and you know, as well as I do, that you slip so easily into subspace when that happens, and I want you to be right here with me this time, even if you are adorable when you’ve sunk. So the choice is yours pet, will you let me put a ring on your cock so that you can wait and come with me?” 

Jinn finished, the whole time he had been holding Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, not letting him shy away from his dirty words, keeping him grounded in his mind, and Obi-Wan realised that even though he knew it was going to make his cock ache, he wanted that too, that no matter how nice he found that soft place, he wanted to be aware of everything his master was doing to him the first time he took him. So Obi-Wan licked his lips without thinking about it, and cleared his throat, trying not to fidget on the bed.

“The ring please, master,” he said, a little louder than a whisper.

“Good boy,” his master said, reaching into the bedside drawer for something that hadn’t been there the day before. It was different from the one that his master had used last time, this one having two loops instead of one, and Obi-Wan squeaked as his masted guided him to stand and pulled down his pants, securing one of the rings around the base of his mostly soft cock, and the other going tightly around the top of his sac. “This one has to go on while your cock is soft, pet, and I know you well enough by now to know that it won’t be for very much longer, will it?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admitted, flushing with that embarrassment that always seemed to excite his cock. “But did you need to pull my pants back up?” He said, and his master chuckled at him again, kissing him again. 

“Perhaps not, but I rather liked the idea of undressing you more slowly than that, and had I done that first then I imagine your little cock would have been too hard for me to put the ring on you.”

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan said with a mumble, knowing it was true.

“Now,” his master said, settled on the bed and patting his lap. “Come here padawan.”

Obi-Wan went easily, resting his knees on the bedding either side of his master’s hips and sinking into his lap, sighing happily as his master began to kiss him again; an act he seemed to have become more and more fond of as time had gone on, which was almost ironic to Obi-Wan, for all of its chasteness compared to the other things they did together. 

His master was an excellent kisser, which surprised Obi-Wan not one bit, and he was sure he could lose entire evenings to the act, given the hours that had slipped past during the days here and there, lost to nothing more scandalous than shared kisses. 

Now was different than those times though, because his master kissed differently when he was doing so with intent, instead of simple enjoyment of the act. Obi-Wan was being kissed now as a promise of things to come, being nearly devoured by his master as large hands travelled the expanse of his clothed body. His lips were being nipped and sucked in equal measure, his master seeming intend on mapping the entirety of Obi-wan mouth as if he hadn’t already done so a hundred times. 

As they kissed, his master’s shands found their way under under Obi-Wan’s shirts, and he deftly undid the belts and obi around his waist without needing to look, so familiar by now with the movements of undressing his padawan. He broke away from the kiss to tuug Obi-Wan’s shirts off of him, leaving Obi-Wan’s chest exposed, nipples peddling from the slightly cool air in the room, Obi-Wan moaning softly as his master returned to kissing him, and ran his thumbs over Obi-Wan sensitive nipples. 

He encouraged Obi-Wan, helping his less-sure hands as they tried to pull his master’s shirts from him, less complicated, but tighter, and harder to remove just from how much taller his master was. But Qui-Gon didn’t seem to mind his incompetence, smiling at Obi-Wan indulgently and drawing off his own shirts. 

Obi-Wan loved his master’s chest, how broad it was, the gentle definition of his muscles, a sign of someone who worked and trained hard, but had more important things to worry about than deliberately stacking on muscle. It was firm, but not unforgiving, and Obi-Wan liked to fall asleep with his head pillowed against it. 

He ran his hands over the expanse of skin, beginning to squirm in his master’s hold as his anticipation for what was to come grew, his own cock was completely hard now, and the feeling of his master thickening beneath him excited him. His master noticed, because he seemed to notice everything Obi-Wan thought or felt, and with strong hands Obi-Wan felt himself being lifted and moved, until he was lying back against the pillows, looking up at his master, caged within his arms. 

His master kissed him once more, before kneeling between Obi-Wan’s legs and sliding his pants and underwear down his legs and off the side of the bed, leaving Obi-Wan blushing and exposed. Obi-Wan squirmed, cock hard against his stomach, as his master pressed a lingering kiss to his lips before standing from the bed, shucking his own trousers and underwear quickly before claiming the slick from the bedside draw and returning to his place between Obi-Wan’s legs. 

“Lets see shall we pet, how loose you still are from this morning, when you took the plug  _ so _ well,” his master murmured, hitching Obi-Wan’s legs up and pressing a kiss to his knee before putting them back on the bed. He worked a pillow under Obi-Wan’s hips, guiding him with those sure hands, and Obi-War heard the lid of his preferred slick being turned open, his breathing hitching as two fingers pressed against his hole. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan breathed, not trying to say anything in particular, just wanting to say his name. Qui-Gon’s face softened and he kissed Obi-Wan’s slackening lips as he pressed two fingers inside of Obi-Wan’s hole, able to take them both with relative ease. 

Obi-Wan had grown accustomed to the feeling of Qui-Gon’s fingers inside of him, but that didn’t mean it excited him any less, and he was rutting himself back on those fingers, feet planted on the bedding for better leverage, even as his cock began to ache, and he knew he was only making it worse for himself. 

“Do you like the way my fingers feel, pet?” Jinn murmured, stroking them inside of Obi-Wan’s hole and scissoring him open, brushing over his prostate leisurely and making pleasure shiver through Obi-Wan’s entire body. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan sighed, knowing his master liked it when he answered him, rocking down on those thick fingers, now thrusting in and out of his hole. “Want more.”

“Of course you do, you’ve become very greedy and spoiled under my...tutelage,” his master teased, but was clearly delighted by this, from the way he was pressing kisses to Obi-Wan’s hip and fucking him a little harder on his fingers. “Would you like a third?”

“Pl-please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, voice catching as his master rubbed over his sweet spot with the pads of his fingers more pointedly, the pleasure spiking through Obi-Wan and his cock throbbing painfully, trapped inside the ring, and Obi-Wan knew he would have come by now, were it not for the silicon forcing him not to. 

“So polite,” his master praised, withdrawing his fingers to spread more slick over them, pressing back in with three.

Obi-Wan could feel the stretch, loved the way it made him feel as three of Qui-Gon’s fingers fucked into him. He moaned as Qui-Gon spread them, forcing out Obi-Wan’s muscles, tugging teasingly at his rim whenever he withdrew his fingers far enough. Qui-Gon stretched him like that for so long Obi-Wan felt half out of his mind with it, thrusting his hips up against nothing but air, but back down onto his master’s fingers, as he was kept teetering on the edge of a release he wasn’t able to have. 

He moaned uncontrolled as his master massaged against his prostate for long moments, Obi-Wan crying out helplessly as he also stroked his hand up Obi-Wan’s cock until Obi-Wan begged him to stop and batted at his hands. 

“Too much, little one?” His master asked, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek, stealing away the only tear that had managed to escape. 

“Feels good but it hurts,” Obi-Wan whimpered, still rolling his hips down against his the fingers fucking inside him more gently for a moment.

“One day soon, I’m going to fuck you without the ring, and I’m going to see how many times that desperate little cock of yours can come, without a nasty ring denying it. I think I could make you come at least six times, milk you until you were coming completely dry” his master murmured promises in his ear, and Obi-Wan moaned just at the thoughts. His master had made him come four times in a night before and the last one had hurt, barely any come spurting from his cock, and he shivered thinking about what it might feel like to be made to come more. 

“But tonight,” his master continued, slicking up his fourth finger and sliding it inside his hole alongside the others, making Obi-Wan whine and buck, held down by a strong hand at his hip. “You’re only going to come once, with my cock buried inside your ass, I wonder if you’ll pass out from how strong it will be, you’ve already been on edge since you took my third finger, you’re going to be wound so tight by the time I finally let you come,” his master teased, voice low and chuckling as Obi-Wan moaned loudly at his words, and the way his four fingers were stretching his hole wide. 

He whimpered, when Jinn gently drew all four digits from his hole, feeling stretched wide even though he knew it wasn’t enough for his master’s cock yet. He felt simultaneously excited and impatient when he felt the hard tip of the largest plug teasing at his entrance, dripping with slick and pressing against the loosen muscle, which gave way easily at every push his master made. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan whined the fifth time Jinn pressed against his entrance, as if to breach, only to back off again.

“Yes padawan?” He asked, even as he did it again, denying Obi-Wan as he tried to thrust himself back down onto the toy. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan whined, glad his master seemed to be in a more relaxed mood, not demanding a more defined answer, instead smiling slowly and finally pushing the toy inside Obi-Wan with one long, steady push. Obi-Wan whimpered as it sat snug inside him, he could feel the stretch clearly, lighting up his muscles and making the pleasure that much more intense. His master didn’t let him rest, moving the plug around inside him relentlessly, working it deep inside him and making sure the widest part was stretching his rim, loosening it further as he moved it in wide circles. 

The size of the plug was so large that it pressed against Obi-Wan’s prostate no matter what his master was doing with it, and Obi-Wan’s cock was throbbing with need, aching painfully by the time his master pulled the plug free, one of his thumbs resting over Obi-Wan’s now wide entrance. 

Obi-Wan could barely breath as he watched his master slick his fat cock, unable to look away. His master lifted one of Obi-Wan’s legs and hitched it over his shoulder, getting Obi-Wan’s other knee to hook over his elbow, holding him open as he pressed the thick head of his cock against Obi-Wan’s loose rim. 

“Ready pet?” His master asked, pressing kisses to Obi-Wan’s jaw, dislodged as Obi-Wan nodded. 

“Yes master, please, please I’m ready.”

“Good boy. Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, before finally pressing forward. 

Obi-Wan cried out, hands flying up to Qui-Gon shoulders to brace himself as the head of his master’s cock pushed inside of him. He had never been stretched this wide, and even with weeks of training it burned, had him struggling to take it, the discomfort warred with - enhanced - his pleasure, his cock not going soft for a moment as his body was stretched to its limit. 

“Breathe pet,” his master ordered, voice firm in a way that Obi-Wan found nearly impossible to ignore, sucking in air as he was instructed to do so instinctually. 

It focused on his breathing for a few moments, until it was regular, even though he could not stop panting, and his muscles loosened a little again, tightening up after the initial press of his master’s cock. He fluttered his eyes open and stared up at his master, who was studying Obi-Wan in turn, his face was soft but the muscles in his master’s neck were straining as he forced himself to keep still and let Obi-Wan adjust. 

“M-more?” Obi-Wan managed, and his master praised him, pressing a little deeper and making Obi-Wan wail, stopping as his body tried to lock up again. 

He worried about taking too long, but his master was patient, tracing soothing patterns against the skin of Obi-Wan’s knee, his other hand gently stroking Obi-Wan’s cock to distract him from the intensity of the stretch whenever he wasn’t using it to help guide his cock inside Obi-Wan. The feeling was intense, sparking up Obi-Wan’s spine, and he knew his master’s wasn’t even halfway inside him yet. 

His master stayed in control, working himself inside of Obi-Wan’s tight hole in patient increments, soothing Obi-Wan with his hands and words as he struggled over every inch, both the pleasure and discomfort becoming more intense with every movement, until finally, just when Obi-Wan thought he was going to fail, to reach his limit to soon, he felt his master’s hips press against his ass. 

He was whimpering and moaning incoherently, and his master rubbed his hip, resting more against Obi-Wan and waiting patiently, despite the slight strain in his voice, for Obi-Wan to settle into the sensations. His master felt impossibly deep inside him, cock pressing unavoidably against his prostate just from how completely he filled his hole. The intensity of the fullness in his ass was magnifying everything else Obi-Wan was feeling, from the fingers gently toying with his still hard and leaking cock,to the hand stroking his knee, to the lips at his neck, the scrape of beard on his skin, to the beat of his own heart.

“Here pet,” his master said, voice strained as he held himself still. He took one of Obi-Wan’s hands and pressed his just below his belly button, Obi-Wan’s eyes flying open with a gasp as he realised he could just about feel his master’s cock inside him. 

“Master,” he moaned, shifting his hips and little and whining at the renewed burn of the stretch, but feeling alight with the way he could feel his master’s cock a little better, if still faintly, when he pressed his palm down. 

“You feel so good around my cock pet, so tight and perfect, like you were made just for my cock,” his master murmured.

“I-I think I’m ready,” Obi-Wan said, voice shaky and shivering as Qui-Gon smiled that slow smile at him, the one that felt like it had been promising Obi-Wan this exact thing from the moment they met. 

“Good boy,” his master purred, and he shifted, pressing more completely against Obi-Wan, before drawing his hips back and pushing back in again in one slow movement. It had Obi-Wan’s toes curling, his body singing and screaming out in equal measure as his body felt awash with pleasure, but his bound cock denied any part of him release. 

His master continued with the slow thrusts of his hips, letting Obi-Wan grow more used to the delicious feeling of his master’s cock inside him, pressing up against him, before finally beginning to pick up his speed, fucking hard into Obi-Wan as his hole accommodated him more easily. Each thrust sent his master’s cock over his prostate, and on the first hard slam of his hips, Obi-Wan keened loudly, his nails digging into the meat of his master’s shoulders, making Qui-Gon groan and work his hips faster. 

An electric feedback loop of pleasure built between them, as his master’s harder thrusts made Obi-Wan grip him tighter, nails raking red lines over his skin, which renewed his master’s determination, fuckinginto Obi-Wan until he felt like he was being pounded into the mattress, forced to let go of his master with one of his hands to brace himself against the headboard as his master’s hard thrusts drove him up the bed. 

Qui-Gon grabbed his other hand off his shoulder, and held it over the place where Obi-Wan could feel his master inside him, his cock fucking in and out of him, and Obi-Wan wailed, feeling his body trying to crest again only to be denied. His master seemed almost feral with it, hair falling out of his pony tail and his grip shifted on Obi-Wan again, crowding over him and cradling him in his arms against the bed, his hips thrusting more slowly but deeper inside of him, reaching places the plug had never been able to come close to. 

His master’s stamina was ferocious, not tiring as he worked himself in and out of Obi-Wan’s hole, occasionally changing position but always keeping Obi-Wan on his back and close to him, bending Obi-Wan in half with the leg on his shoulder, as he kissed him thoroughly, Obi-Wan’s lips slack and useless to do anything except moan as his master drove into him with unrelenting thrusts.

His leg dropped from his master’s shoulder, and he wrapped both his legs tight around his waist with what little energy he had for it, his master growling his approval as he worked himself faster. Praise was falling from his lips in constant waves, but Obi-Wan could barely catch the words, so overwhelmed by everything his senses were trying to catalogue, but he heard it in snatches, that he was good, that his ass was perfect, that his master had been thinking about this for months, that he loved the way Obi-Wan looked beneath him, that he was the only one to have ever had him in this way.

It was enough to make Obi-Wan whine around the constant stream of noises being fucked out of his mouth, make him feel warmed from the inside out, hands coming up to tangle int his master’s now-messy hair and drag him down for a kiss. 

“Fuck, pet,” his master groaned, forcing himself to slow down and Obi-Wan cried out in protest, trying to force himself down onto his master’s thick cock, but he lacked the leverage, and his legs and arms felt uncoordinated, shaking violently from pleasure and denial as his cock strained,

“Master,” Obi-Wan whined, squeezing his feet against the small of his master’s back, getting a light slap to his thigh for his trouble, nothing compared to now hard his master spanked him, but everything was amplified by the feeling of his master’s fat cock in his ass, and he felt himself jerk as his cock fought and failed to find release again. 

“I’m going to take this off now,” his master warned, and Obi-Wan nodded eagerly, a feeling of relief washing over him as the tight bindings on his cock and balls came loose, though Obi-Wan snapped his own hand down and squeezed himself tight, his master raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Want to come when you’re fucking me,” he mumbled, too filled with pleasure to be able to summon embarrassment, much less so when his master growled and bit at his lip. 

“ _ Perfect _ ,” he praised, before holding Obi-Wan’s knees in his hands to open him more fully and rolling his hips back. At the first thrust of his cock was hard, unforgiving and there was nothing Obi-Wan could do to stop himself from coming, his hand nothing compared to the ring. He wailed, body clamping down on his master’s cock even harder than before as he tightened and then sagged with his release. 

Obi-Wan cock pulsed, coming hard enough that some of his spend hit his neck, the rest painting his chest with thick, heavy spurts that kept going as his master growled and fucked him through it, until his cock was drooling out come, his skin drenched in his own release. 

His body felt like an open nerve, but he whined for more as his master continued to fuck him, rhythm growing more erratic as Obi-Wan’s body spasmed around him. His hands moved to Obi-Wan’s hips, and he knew his master’s grip was going to leave a bruise, the thought making him whine and find the energy to forcibly tighten his ass around his master’s cock enough to make his master throw his head back and moan as his cock jerked, coming inside Obi-Wan in long, hot pulses, Obi-Wan whimpering as he felt them painting his insides. 

His master worked himself through his orgasm in soft rolls of his hips that had Obi-Wan shuddering and gasping with every movement, lying limp and spent beneath him, though he found the energy to response when his master drew him into long, exhausted kisses. 

His master waited until Obi-Wan’s body was a little less sensitive before withdrawing his softening cock as gently as he could, Obi-Wan unable to entirely suppress his wince at the feeling, and then his whimper and how open and exposed he felt. 

“Shh pet, I’m here,” his master soothed, making Obi-Wan realise that his eyes were closed, and he had no idea how long they had been for, drifting in and out of consciousness in hazy snatches ever since he had been able to come, relieved he could remember his master’s orgasm as clearly as his own. 

Obi-Wan blushed furiously as his master knelt between his legs and inspected his gaping hole, dripping with his master’s come, but he was too tired to try and cover himself, and knew his master wouldn’t allow it anyway. When he either found or didn’t find what he was looking for, Obi-Wan felt himself being wiped down gently with a damp cloth, until his hole and chest were both clean, although Obi-Wan thought he could still feel some of his master’s copious spend inside of himself. 

“Here pet, having something to eat,” his master murmured, and Obi-Wan grumbled unintelligibly, not feeling very fondly towards the idea of moving, but he didn’t protest as his master moved him, propping Obi-Wan against his chest to hand feed him a few bites of fruit and a few sips of wine. 

“Was it good?” Obi-Wan managed, turning his head away to signal that he was done, and burrowing his face into his master’s neck. 

“You were  _ perfect _ Obi-Wan, better than I could have even imagined, you took me so well,” Qui-Gon praised, filling Obi-Wan up with warmth as he smiled against his master’s sweaty skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! I hope it at least somewhat lived up to expectations!! I wonder what new and fun smutty shenanigans our boys can get up to now (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> Back to qui next chapter, he has some sithly business to see to, and there's a plant, which I realise sounds less exciting than a five chapter build up to obi-wan getting his ass reamed, BUT it'll be great i swear ヾ(＠＾▽＾＠)ﾉ


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is me remembering that in reality the fic is not just about obi getting pounded (who knew right???) 
> 
> Your comments on the previous chapter made me ASCEND I'm so glad it lived up to the hype <33 and I hope you enjoy this instalment too!! Qui being sithly!! Obi being sweet!!

The move on the Hutts was only a week away, and Qui-Gon was busy getting all of the pieces into place, it was going well, even with the recent hiccup he saw no reason why their coup should fail. However, the nearer Qui-Gon came to the time to strike, the less time he had for Obi-Wan, disappointing in its own right, but also a delicate matter, as he knew that his padawan had an unspoken fear that he would tire of Obi-Wan, now that he had taken him. 

A week after the fact, and quite the opposite was true; he had never wanted his padawan more. It seemed that instead of growing used to his presence, everything his padawan did only enticed him further. There were so many more things he could show him, and so many more things he knew his pet would enjoy, that would drive him wild. 

To make sure his padawan didn’t read his absence wrong, he spoiled him evening and morning, so thoroughly it had almost become a ritual, and he had teased his padawan to his almost instinctual, arduous reaction to the chronal signalling morning. He gave Obi-Wan directions on his training most days, but some he insisted his pet have to rest, to avoid building up hard knots in his muscles that Qui-Gon found it difficult to work free. Today his pet was in Olserra town, visiting the market there, and Qui-Gon regretted that he couldn’t enjoy it with him. 

Qui-Gon had never found pleasure in a partner the way he did in Obi-Wan, nothing Xanatos had ever done had drawn him in, Xanatos could be throwing himself naked at Qui-Gon’s feet and he wouldn’t hold a candle to how enticing his padawan was, fully clothed, brow furrowed with concentration as he followed the steps to a new form. It made him possessive, his desire to keep Obi-Wan close, to keep him happy and content here was growing out of control. 

He would neglect his duties, concern himself only with Obi-Wan, if that were possible, and perhaps it was, but it would mean he no longer had the resources to pamper and spoil his padawan as he so dearly deserved, and that was unacceptable. There were few things Qui-Gon enjoyed more than watching his padawan enjoy himself, the pleasure of a sumptuous piece of fruit, the sparkle in his eye when Qui-Gon gave him a new gift, the devastation Qui-Gon could rain on him by making him come over and over again. 

He knew what he saw in the future, what he wanted from it with a passion so bright it was almost a fury; Obi-Wan, his perfect padawan, standing beside him, so touched by the light but still choosing his place by Qui-Gon’s side, corrupted and uncorrupted, using the light by loyal to Qui-Gon and his plans. 

A shame then, that his pet still idolised the jedi so, jedi that had thrown him away, like he was nothing, not even worth training. But Qui-Gon had been raised and knighted in that suffocating temple, he knew firsthand that Obi-Wan was brighter and stronger than any of them. If he could make them pay for causing his padawan to experience such rejection, for poisoning him with the belief he was not good enough exactly as he was, he would. He looked forward to the day.

Dooku called him infatuated, scowled over the fact that he had a failed initiate with him at all - and Qui-Gon had given him some choice words at the word  _ failed _ \- and claimed that Qui-Gon was distracted. What was the point, Qui-Gon wondered, in being a sith at all, if he still was not afforded a little distraction?

What his old master failed to realise, still too wrapped up in the arrogant belief that he was second only to Sidious, that he was infallible; was that Obi-Wan was an asset, not a liability. Dooku believed that Obi-Wan’s infatuation with the jedi would lead to him one day drawing his lightsaber on Qui-Gon, striking him down and landing a blow to the sith. But Qui-Gon didn’t believe that he would. And even if he did, Qui-Gon knew how to defend himself, even from that which he was loath to hurt. 

He was broken out of his thoughts by a hesitant voice at the door.

“Master?” Obi-Wan said, after after a gentle knock, his pet was always more cautious about coming into this room nowadays, after the incident with Sha’or. Qui-Gon was glad that there would be no further incidents with that man, nor anyone else, as the way he had dealt with it made clear to his staff that nothing that upset his padawan, no matter how ‘insignificant’, would be tolerated.

“Come in pet,” he replied, setting down his work and watching as his padawan walked into the room, holding something behind his back and looking nervous. “What do you have there?”

“Um, well, you know I went into the market?” Obi-Wan replied, as if Qui-Gon was capable of forgetting where his padawan was. Obi-Wan's hair was floppy now, swept back from his face in a sweet little wave of strawberry blonde hair that Qui-Gon enjoyed running his fingers through, and Obi-Wan enjoyed being pulled and petted in equal measure.

“Yes, I hope you had a nice day out.”

“I did, there’s this old woman who sells plants down there, and she told me lots about the region, because I’ve still not really seen much of it, and she was talking about the Bispaire plant, and how important it is to Olserra, apparently none of the ecosystem would exist here without it, and it just made me think that for all the plants on your ship I’ve never seen a Bispaire here. So..I..bought you...one,” Obi-Wan trailed off, suddenly looking tremendously embarrassed as he bought a pot holding a small sapling out from behind his back, and something in Qui-Gon’s chest tightened viscerally.

“Pet - ”

“I mean, I only have the money you gave me so I suppose you kind of bought it, but I hope you like it, anyway. It’s just, you’re always getting me nice things and I wanted to do the same for you, only now im realising that maybe there’s a reason you don’t have this plant, or maybe you  _ do _ have one and it’s just somewhere I haven’t seen.”

“Padawan, hush,” Qui-Gon said, finding Obi-Wan rambling with a sapling in his arms dangerously endearing. He reached out and squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulders, before easing the pot out of his hands. “I had always meant to get a Bispaire, but for some reason never go around to it. Thank you pet.”

“You like it?” Obi-Wan asked, brightening immediately, a happy smile dancing over his lips that crinkled the corners of his eyes. 

“Of course I do pet, very much,” Qui-Gon replied, he couldn’t remember the last time had been given such a sweet gift, in fact, given his history with the jedi, he wasn’t sure if he had ever been given a gift designed simply to be enjoyed, rather than to curry favour. 

Perhaps, Qui-Gon could admit to himself, he was a little compromised where his padawan was concerned. 

“Come here padawan,” Qui-Gon said, sitting back down in his large office chair, placing the plant on his desk and holding out a hand. “Let me thank you properly.”

Obi-Wan came to him freely, so freely it would be easy to take it for granted, and Qui-Gon resolved never to allow that to happen, in the face of this gift. Obi-Wan came and stood beside him, sitting down across his lap with encouragement from Qui-Gon’s hands. Obi-Wan tried to tuck in close, as he always did when sitting like this, but Qui-Gon stopped him with a gentle hand under his chin, and drew him in for a kiss instead. 

His padawan was growing more confident in his kisses, and the charm of his inexperience was slowly being replaced with a new kind of seduction, in the form of his padawan knowing what he wanted, and hesitantly taking it. He opened his lips for Qui-Gon, coaxed him inside his hot little mouth, and moaned quietly as Qui-Gon deepened the kiss, in response to such a sweet, physical invitation.

Obi-Wan’s lips were soft under his, and the soft sighs and whines his padawan made when he nipped at his pink lips or sucked on his tongue, were more arousing to Qui-Gon than anything his past lovers had done, far beyond kissing. It was intoxicating, Qui-Gon feeling his cock start to fill just from the pleasure of having his responsive, needy little pet in his lap, kissing him lazily. 

He laid kisses on Obi-Wan’s jaw as he pulled away just enough to see his padawan’s already dazed expression. He blinked to try and focus, his cheeks pinking in a way that Qui-Gon couldn’t help but think of as  _ cute _ , and shyly - because somehow, his padawan still managed to be shy - tugged Qui-Gon’s hands, one to his waist, the other on his thigh.

With anyone else, Qui-Gon would think it was a deliberately coy action, to guide his hands somewhere so innocent before anywhere else, but his pet had gone his whole life with no sexual touch, denying himself even most casual contact. He was starved of it, to the extent that Qui-Gon had learned that while Obi-Wan undoubtedly wanted Qui-Gon’s hands in more erotic places as well, the simple act of being touched at all brought him pleasure, made his entire body sing with relief and comfort.

Qui-Gon squeezed with his hands, holding Obi-Wan tighter, and letting his hand move further up his thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb on the inside of his padawan’s thigh, making him squirm, hide his face in Qui-Gon’s neck and kiss him there, open-mouthed and increasingly desperate as Qui-Gon’s thumb moved further up the inside of his thigh.

Obi-Wan whined, high pitched and needy, when Qui-Gon’s thumb reached his little cock, already hard and jerking when Qui-Gon toyed with it, even through the many layers of Obi-Wan’s pristine padawan robes. He could feel Obi-Wan’s face heating against his neck as his pet started to rock into the touch.

“Oh pet,” Qui-Gon cooed, turning to kiss the top of his head, the mop of hair was windswept from his time outside, and carried the bucolic smell of the rolling hills and trees outside. With a practiced hand, he started to undo the belts and obi around Obi-Wan’s middle, letting them drop to the floor without much care. He was then able then to slip his hand under his padawan’s shirts and ruck them up so that he could run his thumb over his quickly pebbling nipples, tug at the buds and make Obi-Wan wriggle in his lap, rubbing his pert ass against Qui-Gon’s steadily thickening cock. 

He had never had Obi-Wan in his office, and would admit to many desires centering around the room; laying Obi-Wan out on his desk and eating him out until he was shaking with how many times his master had made him come; bending his pet over the desk, pulling his pants down just enough to fuck his perfect little hole; having his hungry padawan under his desk and contentedly warming his cock with that hungry mouth of his while Qui-Gon listened to the usual dirge of daily reports from his staff. 

Regretfully, he didn’t have time for any of that now, though he should have long enough to spoil Obi-Wan a little, he thought, and started tugging Obi-Wan’s shirts off of him. Obi-Wan curled into him when his top half was bare, for reasons that likely had nothing to do with the cool temperature Qui-Gon preferred in his office. 

His padawan had filled out a little from when he had first arrived, no longer too skinny from hard work and bland meals, more substance to his small body, definition appearing from his training, but blanketed by a soft layer that Qui-Gon squeezed hungrily, making Obi-Wan shiver.

He kept one of his hands splayed wide on Obi-Wan’s stomach, and let the other drag over Obi-Wan’s clothed cock in nothing but a tease as he claimed Obi-Wan’s lips. He swallowed Obi-Wan’s whines, and as they grew more desperate, hips hitching up against Qui-Gon’s hands, he unlaced the fastenings on his pants and reached inside to pull out his leaking cock, always so wet for him. 

As he ran his fingers down Obi-Wan’s shaft, there was a knock at his door, impatient enough that there was only one fist it could belong to, Qui-Gon was more than half tempted to ignore it. But even Xanatos knew not to interrupt him when he was with his pet, unless it was important, and with a growl, Qui-Gon forced himself to release his padawan. 

“Would you like to get dressed before I open the door?” He asked, Obi-Wan had only lost his shirt, but his trousers were open and his little cock just about on view, and regretfully, Qui-Gon tucked Obi-Wan back into his pants when he looked up blearily, not offering an answer. 

“Do I need to go?” He asked, chewing on his lip, still sitting in Qui-Gon’s lap. 

“No pet, you can stay right here if you want,” Qui-Gon murmured, kissing Obi-Wan’s pink lips and running a hand down his bare back. “Shirt?” Qui-Gon asked, and was surprised when Obi-Wan shook his head, snuggling himself into Qui-Gon’s lap, and hiding his face in Qui-Gon’s neck as he opened the door. 

Xanatos’ already scowling face soured further when the door opened before he caught himself, and Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes at the younger man. He should know his place better than that, Qui-Gon had let him get away with too much over the years because of a fleeting, long-forgotten fondness he had once had when he thought Xanatos would make a good padawan. 

He had discarded him as such within a few months, Xanatos was too volatile, so much so that it made him weak, and instead of embracing and using his emotions to reach his true potential in the dark, Xanatos was ruled by them. Xanatos was lucky that by the time Qui-Gon had decided that he was unsuitable to train, he had already proven himself a formidable tactician away from open battle.

He had been an easy way for Qui-Gon to see to his own needs, and it certainly hadn’t hurt that he was willing to whore himself out to whoever Qui-Gon needed to entice more viscerally than was usual. Yes, Xanatos had his uses, but Qui-Gon had no use for anyone who looked at his padawan that way, and Xanatos’ pathetic, enduring infatuation with Qui-Gon had long begun to wear out it’s welcome. 

But he would not address it with Obi-Wan in the room with him, his padawan too swift to assume he was making a nuisance of himself, especially when it was other’s who were at fault. 

“I hope this is urgent Xanatos,” Qui-Gon barked, his voice cold though he kept his hand stroking down Obi-Wan’s back. He was glad when Xanatos’ expression shuttered, as it should have been before he entered the room. 

“Avarus I know you better than to interrupt you with unimportant messages. The other sith have arrived.”

“All of them?”

“All except Sidious, my lord.”

“They’re early,” Qui-Gon growled, he had expected to have an extra hour with his padawan, or he would not have riled him up so. He almost wanted to make the others wait, but there was no sense antagonising them, much less when he required their assistance so immediately.

“Better than late, surely,” Xanatos replied, giving what he likely thought was an enticing smile, but that only served to make Qui-Gon curl his lip in annoyance. 

“Leave. Wait outside,” Qui-Gon ordered, and Xanatos badly disguised his irritation as he left, lips pursed, gait stiff. Xanatos didn’t close the door behind him, so Qui-Gon did it for him with a sharp push of the force. 

“You need to go?” Obi-Wan asked, after the door was shut.

“Yes pet, I am sorry. Though I fully intend to finish what we started later,” Qui-Gon replied, voice heavy with regret at being forced away from his padawan yet again, and drawing his padawan up for a kiss. 

Obi-Wan tried to dress himself, but relented with a shy smile when Qui-Gon insisted on doing it himself, redressing his padawan in the quiet of his office somehow feeling even more intimate than undressing him had. When Obi-wan was presentable, Qui-Gon tugged playfully at the tiny nerf tail at the back of his head before kissing his forehead. 

“Amuse yourself however you see fit, unfortunately this meeting is likely to take all evening, if not longer. I would not advise you to wait up for me if it gets late.”

“What happened to finishing what we started later?” Obi-Wan asked, a mischievous glitter in his eye that had Qui-Gon unreasonably angry at the other sith, and he took Obi-Wan’s chin between his fingers, rubbing at his lower lip, growling when his padawan cheekily sucked at it, successfully distracting Qui-Gon for a few moments.

Forcing himself away from Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon picked up his black cloak and put it on, striding down the corridors of his compound and towards the main meeting room, a circular table at the centre, four of the seven seats already filled by Maul, Dooku, Ventress and Savage Opress, the quartet looking sour at having been kept waiting for a few minutes. 

Xanatos had hurried to keep pace with him down the corridor, as if Qui-Gon needed an escort, and Qui-Gon realised that his misguided ex-padawan seemed to be harbouring a delusion that he was going to be part of the proceedings. 

“Leave Xanatos. You have already proven yourself not worthy as a sith,” Qui-Gon said, letting his scorn show clearly in his tone, the other sith smirking as Xanatos slithered away with a bitter expression and the door closed.

There were no pleasantries exchanged between the sith and Qui-Gon was glad to be able to dispense with such inanities as they pressed on to the business at hand. Each of the other sith gave reports on their corner of the business; Ventress and the Nightsisters had successfully assassinated the senators of Agamar and Kalevala, successfully turning the planets away from the republic and it’s so called protection, and towards the sith. 

Savage Opress had been successful, as he always was, one way or another, in collecting the protection fees from the outer rim planets under their protection, and put down a small, badly armed rebellion in Taris with a brutal finality that should ensure no further problems for a number of years. Maul was overseeing their slave trade operations, controlling runaways and stopped any attempted republic interference; a distateful practice for a distatestful person, and Qui-Gon had never liked Maul.

People were far more useful when they joined you willingly, but Qui-Gon had grown weary of having that argument with his peers. Apparently Maul had encountered a couple of jedi on Tatooine, but dispatched both the master and padawan without trouble; Qui-Gon had little doubt he was exaggerating the ease with which he had done so.

Dooku’s plans ran more subtly and long-term, not unlike Qui-Gon’s own, and his report was brief - Qui-Gon knew his old master didn’t trust Ventress or Maul, and kept them as far from his plans as he could - he was still working on breeding them an army, not letting the other three sith know where. Qui-Gon kept an eye on Kamino for him, his coup against the Hutts only working to secure the planet further, even if the cloners didn’t know it themselves. 

Qui-Gon informed them of how the move against the Hutts was going last, the conversation longer as it was in motion, and required each of them to play a part, even if Qui-Gon would have rather kept some of them out of it, he couldn’t deny that Opress and Maul’s connections had been helpful in speeding along his plans. 

He was glad to hear that they were all in place, and ready to mobilise as planned in a week’s time, each with their own target among the Hutts, Qui-Gon and Dooku both travelling to Nal Hutta under the guise of a meeting, ready to slaughter the Hutt leadership while their agents and the other sith choked away the Hutt’s enduring control over the bounty hunters and gambling dens of the rim, and into Qui-Gon’s waiting hands. 

“Is there anything else?” Qui-Gon asked, keen to return to Obi-Wan before the hour grew untenably late. 

“Only the matter of your new... _ padawan _ ,” Dooku said and Qui-Gon allowed his expression to go dark, having foolishly hoped they would get through his meeting without his old master feeling the need to bring Obi-Wan up at al. 

“Sith don’t have padawan’s,” Ventress said, spitting the word as if it was distasteful in her mouth. 

“And yet, Darth Avarus does.”

“I have heard this rumour,” Maul said, folding his arms over his chest. “That you have somehow got your hands on a jedi padawan.”

“The boy is no jedi, a dreg that Avarus picked up with the Agricorps. But this game you are playing has gone on long enough, my old apprentice, and you fawning over a jedi makes us all look weak. What if there begins to be talk about you being brought back to the light?” Dooku demanded, and Qui-Gon worked hard to keep his face impassive, as his master referred to Obi-Wan as a  _ dreg _ . For all that it was the jedi that abhorred attachment, he knew it was important he didn’t seem overly captivated by his pet, lest the other sith see something to be used against him. 

“Don’t be so simple,” Qui-Gon scorned the other assembled sith. “Kenobi’s presence by my side makes us look stronger.”

“How?” Dooku demanded. 

“In the face of The Sith, the republic cowers behind the jedi, hiding behind their skirts. They think them infallible, undefeatable, untouchable. With Kenobi at my side, that changes. They see that the jedi cant keep anyone safe, not even their own, and they will look for other, more assured ways to avoid our wrath.”

“But Kenobi isn’t a real jedi padawan,” Maul replied, his gaze as assessing as ever. 

“No, but he looks the part. And there are hundreds of jedi out there, none of them are going to know the difference, let the rumour spread; let them believe it,” Qui-Gon suggested, assure that his plan was sound, though privately, he thought that Obi-Wan was easily worth every ‘real’ jedi alive. He was brimming with more light than the lot of them. 

“Oh that’s good,” Ventress laughed, a low and unpleasant sound. “The little slut doesn’t even know what he’s doing, does he.” Qui-Gon didn’t let his anger at her words show at all, sharing in her laugh. 

“He is incredibly naive, spreads his legs so easily,” Qui-Gon said, as if that were something to be mocked cruelly. “Are you satisfied,Tyrannus?” Qui-Gon said, affecting nonchalance, amusement at what the others were saying even as his blood boiled.

“For now. We should actively spread the rumour, it could give us more leverage when speaking with undecided planets,” Dooku replied, seeming placated for now. His old master still assumed he had too much control over Qui-Gon, as if their old relationship meant anything these days, with the company they now kept. His master had been Sidious’ apprentice, but there was a tension building between them, as more and more their abhorrent leader turned to Qui-Gon first, and Dooku second.

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I plan to continue to allow that perfect jedi padawan to debase himself for me for the rest of the evening,” Qui-Gon said, excusing himself from the table and hoping that they were all gone by morning. 

Qui-Gon was waylaid by Xanatos shortly after leaving the meeting, Qui-Gon had no doubt he had been in the surveillance room monitoring the meeting room, under the guise of waiting for Qui-Gon to be done, the room turned off and locked when more sensitive discussions were being had than a routine check up of all the work everyone onboard knew was going on anyway - well, almost everyone.

“Darth Avarus, some intelligence came in while you were busy,” Xanatos said, sounding far too happy, considering the unceremonious way he had been rejected from the room, then again, he always had been willing to do anything to crawl back into Qui-Gon’s good graces, even after rejection. 

Qui-Gon took the datapad and scanned through it, seeing nothing particularly interesting, certainly nothing that couldn’t have waited until morning. 

“I thought you knew better than to pester me with unimportant matters,” Qui-Gon sneered, throwing the datapad back at him, Xanatos adept enough in the force to catch it anyway. 

“Sorry my lord, I thought it would be of interest.”

“No you didn’t, you just wanted my attention. But you should know by now that my  _ attentions _ have no interest in you anymore,” Qui-Gon glowered, deciding now was as good a time as any. “And if I catch you with that pinched, jealous expression looking at my padawan again, I will take that lightsaber you cling to so desperately from your belt and leave you sleeping with the rest of the livestock.”

“Of course my lord,” Xanatos managed, ducking his head with his fists balled at his sides. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t overestimate your importance to me Xanatos, you will only find yourself disappointed,” Qui-Gon scolded before leaving Xanatos in the corridor, and heading back to his rooms. 

It wasn’t untenably late yet, and Qui-Gon expected Obi-Wan to be awake still, but when he reached their room, he noticed Obi-Wan already tucked into bed, wrapped in the covers. Strange not only for it’s relatively early hour, but also by the way he was pressed up to the edge of his ‘side’ of the bed; when usually if he had to fall asleep alone, he curled up in the middle. Concerned, Qui-Gon rounded the bed, stroking a hand through his padawan’s hair and intending to press a kiss to his forehead and ask if he was feeling unwell, but instead found tear tracks running down his face, shaking shoulders previously masked by the bedding. 

“Obi-Wan!” He said, alarmed and crouching by the side of the bed, to be on eye level with his distressed padawan. “What is wrong? What has upset you? Talk to me pet.”

“N-nothing,” Obi-Wan replied, predictably, even as his words hitched around his sniffles. 

“I’ve told you before not to lie to me pet,” Qui-Gon warned, though he kept his words soft. He pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead, alarm only growing when Obi-Wan’s unhappiness grew and he shuffled away. Qui-Gon let him go, cautious suddenly, over touching his padawan, leaving him in a difficult position, as touch was the fastest way he knew to soothe Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan, do you not want me to touch you?” Qui-Gon said, keeping his voice carefully calm. 

“I-I don’t know,” Obi-Wan admitted, but at least didn’t move any further away. 

“I need you to tell me what upset you,” Qui-Gon tried again, all too aware of how isolated Obi-Wan was, that if he wouldn’t speak to him about the things that were upsetting him, there was no where else for him to go, and Qui-Gon knew that could drive Obi-Wan away from him. 

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything at first, chewing aggressively at his lip and trying to make himself small, as if he wanted the bedding to swallow him up, but Qui-Gon forced himself to remain patient, and was rewarded when Obi-Wan spoke.

“I don’t think I was in a room I was meant to be in,” he whispered. 

“You won’t be in trouble pet, I promise.”

“It was filled with monitors and things. The door was open and I didn’t remember it being a room you’d told me not to go in,” Obi-Wan started, and the only reason he had left it off the list of forbidden room, was that it was always locked unless there was someone inside. But all his staff had been thoroughly warned against presuming to tell his padawan where he could and could not be. Qui-Gon felt his stomach dropping. 

“You heard my meeting with the sith,” Qui-Gon said instantly filled with a foreign kind of regret - more complete and deep seated than the fleeting, or selfish regret he usual felt - for the things he had said in that meeting. Obi-Wan nodded slightly, his face only just peeking out from within the bedding. 

“Obi-Wan, I need you to listen to me now, okay,” Qui-Gon said, Obi-Wan nodded again, his eyes were wet and Qui-Gon longed to reach out and soothe away his tears. “The sith expect a certain coldness, if they knew that I cared about you, that would put you in danger, do you understand?”

“Yes. But…”

“But?”

“Do you think I’m a slut? That I, I debase myself?”

“No pet, I don’t think that. I think you are lovely, and I enjoy our time together just as much as you do, you have done nothing wrong, and you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“What about the other thing?”

“What other thing?”

“That having me with you makes the jedi look weak, you want people to know I’m here to make it worse,” Obi-Wan said, lower lip wobbling, as if he could physically see Qui-Gon shredding his dreams in front of him. Qui-Gon sighed, and slowly, so Obi-Wan could pull away if he wished, returned to stroking his hair.

“I asked you not to lie to me so I will do the same. I hadn’t thought about it before that meeting, I simply wanted you by my side, but to an outsider? Yes, you will likely look like my prisoner, and that will make the jedi look weak; I will not insult you by pretending that I think this is a bad thing, because I do not, though I know your feelings are different. But that was not why I asked you to come with me at the Argicorps, you were not part of some larger plot, and I did not offer you a place by my side just to use you to make the jedi seem weak.”

“Why did you?” Obi-Wan asked, voice small, but not shaking anymore, his tears steadying to a near-stop, he seemed comfortable enough with Qui-Gon’s touch that he wiped away the dampness on his cheeks. 

“Because you were beautiful, both in the way you look, and your presence in the force. I saw you wasting your life at the Agricorps when you had so much potential, and I wanted to see you achieve it. I felt drawn to you, and that has not changed since.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan said, hope back in his voice. 

“Yes pet. You are very special to me.”

“Thank you master,” Obi-Wan replied shyly, a smile finally making its way to his mouth. 

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better, sweet one?”

“I want...it’s silly,” Obi-Wan trailed off, shaking his head. 

“Tell me, anything you like,” Qui-Gon promised, meaning every word. 

“Can I have a cuddle?” Obi-Wan mumbled, face lighting up with embarrassment and Qui-Gon’s chest twisting.

“Of course pet,” Qui-Gon smiled, relieved that his padawan wanted contact again. He took off his shoes and outer clothes and slipped into the bed behind his padawan, coaxing him back towards the middle of the large bed; his pet was a fidgeter in his sleep, and Qui-Gon worried he would fall out, if left to sleep that close to the edge.

It was a relief, when Obi-Wan returned to his arms, Qui-Gon spooning up behind him, putting one of his legs between his padawan’s, and one arm draped over his waist, holding him tight.

“I don’t like those other sith,” Obi-Wan mumbled, letting himself be drawn back into Qui-Gon’s warmth, tangling his fingers with Qui-Gon’s. 

“I will keep them away from you, they’re nothing compared to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (◡‿◡✿) a fluffy chapter with minimal thirst?? WTH?? Don't get used to it tho there's lingerie, breathplay and a camera in the next chapter ¬‿¬


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You comments ;__; print them out and bury me with them they're the only thing i need in life and they're the only thing i want with me in death <33333
> 
> There is a beeeaauuuttiful piece of art from ColdishCase that you can also find below in the story, [a sfw version on tumblr ](https://coldishcase.tumblr.com/post/630909832152678400/obi-wan-in-a-pink-babydoll-from-chapter-14-of) and the nsfw version below and on their [patreon! ](https://www.patreon.com/posts/42305860)
> 
> This is a porn chapter, lingerie, breathplay and a camera all as promised, a collar also appeared through no fault of my own ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ also possessive behaviour a bit at the end? Tho i feel that's to be expected as soon as a collar is mentioned

Qui-Gon had bought him a gift. That, of course, was not unusual in the slightest, barely a day went by without his master giving him some kind of gift. But this was a little different to sweets and clothes and jewelry. 

Well. It was clothes, Obi-Wan supposed with a growing blush. 

His master had left it in his wardrobe; or well, the part of his own wardrobe he had cleared for Obi-Wan’s things, to stop him from needing to traipse back to his old room so often, and Obi-Wan had found it while getting dressed one morning, Qui-Gon already having left to see to business. 

It was a white, lacy, sheer material that was clearly not intended to hide anything, and also clearly made for a woman. Obi-Wan knew better than to think his master had made some kind of mistake; he had definitely intended for Obi-Wan to find it, in a beautifully wrapped box inside the wardrobe, a small note trapped underneath the ribbon which simply read ‘ _pet_ ’. 

It was almost like a dress, but far too short and transparent to be worn anywhere, and there was a little circle of more frilly fabric that looked about the right size for his thigh, though what the purpose of it was Obi-Wan couldn’t tell. It was very dainty, and pretty, and felt nice against the skin of his fingers, and Obi-Wan looked at it, biting at his lip for a while.

It took him longer than he would freely admit to work out what exactly he was looking at, and when he realised that it was _lingerie_ his cheeks lit up red and he carefully folded the pretty material back into the box and put it back where he had found it.

That had been a few days ago now, and Obi-Wan had been unable to put it from his mind, the thought of how he would look wearing it; it had felt nice against his fingers, maybe it would feel nicer to wear it? But the thoughts always made him blush red, too nervous to try it at first. 

But then a new habit started, opening the box when Jinn wasn’t around, just to run his fingers over the chiffon material. There was a little bow in the vee of the neck, connecting the two parts meant to frame breasts, and Obi-Wan toyed with it, wondering if it would look funny on him, a boy, or if it would just make him look pretty too.

His master hadn’t brought it up, but it was clearly something that he wanted Obi-Wan to wear, or he wouldn’t have bought it for him, and left it for him to find. Knowing that his master wanted to see him in it made Obi-Wan a little braver, and his master had been so busy this week, increasingly stressed and tense as he worked towards some kind of plan against the Hutts. Obi-Wan thought that the least he could do was something nice for his master, to try and help him relax?

Qui-Gon had rarely been able to join him for dinner this week, always apologising with kisses and naughty touches when he finally made it back to his room for the night. Obi-Wan had no doubt this evening would be no different, and he tried to make himself brave, glad at least that he had plenty of time to get ready. 

He showered first, cleaning away the sweat from a day of training, mostly alone but working himself hard, until his skin was a little pink from the warm water. His master still liked to shave him, and Obi-Wan enjoyed it too, so he was smooth and hairless around his private parts, which was good, because he would have no idea how to groom himself there. 

After stepping out, he dried and fixed his hair in the ‘fresher mirror with a towel wrapped around the rest of him, feeling jittery for what he was about to do, stomach twisting up in knots, but bolstered by the thought that his master would like his surprise. His had had become a little floppy and difficult to keep neat in its strange, not-long not-short stage, but with a little fumbling he managed to sweep it back and keep it mostly there, carefully firming up the pins hiding his little braid, recognisable now, even if it was unadorned and short. 

Feeling fidgety but determined, Obi-Wan went over in his towel to the wardrobe, and took out the neat box with careful hands, laying it on the bed and taking off the lid, chewing at his lip and making it red as he drew out the pretty underwear, holding it up by the straps in front of himself. 

With a deep breath, Obi-Wan shimmed out of his towel, laying it over the back of the armchair to put out for cleaning later, shivering, but not from the temperature, as he carefully put the material over his head, and slipped it down his body. The hem rested just below his bottom, both his rear and the tip of his soft cock peeking out whenever he moved, making him blush furiously and try to hold the material down without risking stretching it.

He went back to the box and felt around in the soft tissue paper for the thing he guessed was meant to go around his thigh, slipping it on over his foot and up his leg until it rested comfortably a couple of inches down from the hem. Obi-Wan then went back to looking through the soft tissue paper in the box, because he still hadn’t found any panties, and felt his face flushing scarlett when he realised his master had forgotten to include them, nowhere to find among the wrapping. 

Obi-Wan paused his rummaging; it would be very out of character for his master to forget anything accidentally, and his cheeks heated, realising that his master meant for him to not wear anything else with the little outfit. The soft, gauzy material did feel even nicer brushing against his body than it had against his hand, and he tried not to get excited as it grazed over his cock too.

He shuffled over to the mirror, trying to hold the floaty hem still to stop his cock from peeking out, even though there was no one but himself in the room, and looked at himself. He was surprised by what he saw, expecting to look silly, but he thought he looked nice. The little bow rested against his sternum, and his pink nipples could just about be seen beneath, framed prettily by the bralette. 

The see-through white material was making his skin seem even pinker than usual, tinted by his blush and making him seem soft in the mirror. It accentuated his slight body, made him seem small and dainty, just like the dress. The lacy circle of fabric around his thigh made his legs look a little longer in the mirror, and also drew the eye up, to the hem of his dress. 

Only half way to ready for his master, Obi-Wan tiptoes back to the bed, going into Qui-Gon’s bedside table and getting the slick and the two largest plugs out from their box, putting all the items on the bed. He knew he’d have to be careful not wanting to get his nice gift messy with lube or his come. With a little extra rummaging, he found the simple black dual ring his master put on his cock sometimes, and went red with shame as he put it on, the way his master had shown him, squeezing around the top of his sac and the base of his little cock. 

He wished it was white so that it matched the rest of his outfit, but he knew he needed it, that he would never manage to get his body ready for his master without messing his dress if he didn’t use it. He had been doing better, his master praising him whenever he managed to hold on a little longer before his cock spilled, but it still wasn’t very long, as if his body was trying to make up for lost time.

Thinking carefully, Obi-Wan went and got one of the spare hand towels from the ‘fresher, and laid it out on the bed, knowing that even with the ring, his cock was going to get wet, and he didn’t want to have to avoid a wet patch later when qui-gon got back. 

Obi-Wan climbed onto the bed, lying down on his tummy and shifting his knees under his chest so that his bottom raised up. He wiggled around a little, using his hands to carefully move the material, so that it was out of the way and wouldn’t get dirty, but also wouldn’t have any creases in it when he was done. 

Then he carefully coated his fingers with the slick, and rubbed two of them at his hole. He hadn’t had much practice playing with his own hole, his master liked to do it himself, with his tongue, fingers, and the toys; in fact, Obi-Wan’s skin was still a little raw from that morning, when his master’s beard had scraped over his sensitive skin, despite the thin layer of bacta Qui-Gon had insisted on soothing over it.

Slowly, he pressed one of his fingers inside himself, humming at the nice feeling and shuffling around to try and give his wrist an easier angle as he quickly pushed a second finger inside along with the first. So used to his master’s larger fingers, the toys and his cock, Obi-Wan opened easily around two of his own digits, and he spread them as far as he could, opening himself up as quickly as he could manage. He couldn’t reach his prostate like this, but his cock was still drooling onto the towel, just like his master always teased him for. 

He pushed in a third finger as soon as he knew he could take it, wiggling it in beside the others and sighing as he opened himself up as best he could; his master was much better at this than he was, but it hadn’t stopped his cock from starting to ache in the plug. He worked himself a little faster, in the hopes that he wouldn’t get too worked up, as his master could still be hours away from joining him. 

When he was taking four of his own fingers fairly easily, Obi-Wan coated the fifth plug in slick as well, trying to calm himself with some jedi breathing techniques that never worked when he was like this. His cock ache in the ring as he pushed the large plug inside himself, body jerking when the plug grazed over his neglected prostate as he slowly sunk the plug into his ass. 

It felt good inside him, not nearly as good as his master felt, but good all the same, and Obi-Wan didn’t let himself rest, moaning no matter how he tried to suppress them as he continued to work himself open on the toy. Obi-Wan could admit, either in the quiet to himself, or to his master when he was aroused enough to forgo some of his inhibitions, that he liked the feeling of being filled. He loved the way it felt when his ass or mouth were stretched to their limit and stuffed, and Obi-Wan nuzzled into the pillow, biting at the fabric to muffle himself as he worked the toy faster, opening himself more. 

By the time he felt loose around the plug, getting easier to work the toy in and out of himself, his cock was hurting so much in the ring that he was almost tempted to take the ring off, let his cock come into the towel and clean it up. His master wouldn’t be annoyed, he liked it when Obi-Wan played with himself, but for some reason Obi-Wan had decided he wanted to wait for his master to come, and forced himself to rest for a moment, not moving at all while he waited to back away from the edge. 

When he felt a bit calmer, and his cock was aching less, Obi-Wan pulled the plug from his hole, and slicked up the largest one generously. He was always a little tight around this one, just like he was still had to take his master’s cock slowly, no matter how often his body got to enjoy the sensation, and he hadn’t opened himself as thoroughly as his master always did, but he was able to ease the toy inside himself in increments anyway. 

He had to pause every few centimeters, catching his breath and reminding himself to relax, willing his cock to be less desperate as the toy got wider and wider, but with a gasp the slightly tapered neck slid inside himself, and the base settled against his entrance. Obi-Wan lay still for a while, collecting his breathing and waiting until he felt able to move.

He sat up, whimpering as every movement moved the large plug, jostled it around inside his body and against his prostate. Obi-Wan never forgot it was there, but every time he moved it almost felt like it got bigger inside him. But Obi-Wan balled his fists and persevered, walking in small steps to the ‘fresher to put the towel, damp with his precome, into the wash bin, and clean up the fifth plug. 

With another deep breath, Obi-Wan shuffled out of the ‘fresher and back to the mirror, to inspect the state of himself, make sure nothing had been messed up. He flushed with embarrassment, when he noticed that his hard cock was lifting up the hem of his little dress, making it look obscene and dirty instead of pretty. With a shameful blush that was travelling all the way down to his chiffon covered sternum, Obi-Wan pushed as his bound cock, trying even though he knew it was futile, to get it to stop. 

But he knew that the ring kept him from coming but also kept him hard, and with the thick plug in his ass, he had no real hope of getting soft anyway. His only options were to take both of the toys away, or to let his cock push up the hem of the dress and hope his master didn’t mind. Squirming, Obi-Wan chose the second choice, and tried to arrange the hem in a way that covered his cock as he shuffled back to the bed, but to no avail. 

His next dilemma was how to wait for his master. He wasn’t very good at being sultry, and was fairly sure he would only mess it up if he tried, and he didn’t feel confident enough to drape himself over the bed or anything like that, but he felt silly and exposed just standing around in the room. Eventually he settled on a compromise, sitting up in the bed, against the headboard, with his legs half tucked under himself, where he could sort of arrange himself so that his cock didn’t look too silly lifting up the hem. 

It was an awkward position with the plug, making it rub relentlessly against his sweet spot, which made his cock jerk, and Obi-Wan only realised after trying to get his cock to sit under the fabric of the lingerie like it was supposed to, that he had ended up dirtying the gauzy fabric anyway, a slight wet patch from his leaky little cock dampening the fabric, making that patch more see through than the rest. 

He got annoyed with himself, and then struggled not to get actually upset, after he’d worked so hard to try and keep his nice new clothes clean, but without his master here to soothe him Obi-wan knew he would spiral if he didn’t hold onto himself, and soothed himself by fiddling with his hidden braid.

He was relieved, when he didn’t have to wait very long for his master to arrive, only twenty or so minutes of squirming on the bed, and when he heard noises outside the door, Obi-Wan quickly made sure he was sitting right, and that his braid was still hidden. He heard his master in the entryway to his complex of rooms, the sounds of him taking off his boots and Obi-Wan’s stomach tied itself up in knots as his footsteps approached the bedroom; what if he thought Obi-Wan looked ridiculous? If he was just being a silly little slut, just like that sith had said-

But that train of thought didn’t manage to catch, as his master walked through the doorway and stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh _pet_ ,” his master breathed, moving after a stunned pause closer to the bed, but staying a few feet away to drink in the picture Obi-Wan made hungrily, as Obi-Wan subtly tried to keep his cock down from lifting the hem. “I knew you’d be beautiful in that babydoll, but pet you’re _breathtaking_. More perfect than I could have imagined. Will you come off the bed, so I can look at you properly?” His master asked, holding out a hand to help Obi-Wan from the bed, which he hesitantly took.

“ _Ah_ \- ” Obi-Wan couldn’t hold in his gasp as he was helped from the bed, and his master raised and eyebrow, turning Obi-Wan with his large hands, and bending him over, until Obi-Wan was bracing himself on the bedding, bent over far enough that the little dress was no longer covering his bottom. He felt his master’s large hands on his rear and he whimpered when he spread Obi-Wan’s cheeks, and two fingers pressed at the base of the plug. 

“Oh pet,” his master said again, throatier this time, almost a groan as he shifted around, Obi-Wan blushing reed as he was inspected more closely. “Is that the largest plug, padawan?” Obi-Wan nodded his head. “Perfect,” his master breathed.

He placed a kiss on the small of Obi-Wan’s back and helped him to straighten up and turn back around, his master guiding him a few paces away from the bed, so that he could circle him, inspect him from every angle, while Obi-Wan squirmed. He whined, both from the faint stimulation and the shame, as his master rubbed his index finger to the wet head of Obi-Wan’s cock, lifting up his hem again. 

“You look so lovely, pet, and your little cock peeking out is so cute. You’re such a good boy for wearing the ring, waiting for me so nicely,” his master praised, and Obi-Wan felt himself run warm, any anxiety that had been left knotting in his stomach instantly unwound and smoothed away to nothing. “There is something I want to do, sweet one, but you must tell me if you don’t want it,” Qui-Gon murmured, rubbing a thumb at Obi-Wan’s lip.

“Yes master?”

“I want to film us tonight, while I fuck your perfect little ass,” His master replied, and Obi-wan stilled, his body lighting up with excitement at the idea but worried that he shouldn’t want such a thing. But if his master wanted it, then surely it was okay?

“O-okay,” Obi-Wan whispered after a little pause, his master stroking his arms and giving him unpressured time to make up his mind. Qui-Gon smiled, crinkling his eyes, and he kissed Obi-wan deeply, crowing into Obi-Wan’s space and cupping both sides of his head completely as he devoured him for a moment. 

He sat Obi-Wan down on the bed and kissed him again, telling him to wait, and Obi-Wan found it easy to do as he was told, his excitement growing, cock beginning to ache again already, as his master quickly set up a tripod, an expensive looking holo-recorder mounted on it, pointed at the bed. His master pressed a button, and a little red light came on, Obi-Wan fixating on it, biting at his lip, until his master broke his eyeline to the camera, standing in front of it and pulling his shirt off.

He smiled, when Obi-Wan helped him with his pants, chuckling indulgently when Obi-Wan couldn’t help but suck a few times at his cock, already mostly hard from the sight of Obi-Wan all dressed up for him, which gave Obi-Wan a thrill, made him suck a little harder. His master stroked through his hair, told him he was good, and let him bob his head for a little while, his master filling up his mouth, taking him easily into his throat, having spent so much time with his mouth on his master’s cock. 

He was close to being able to take it all, but before he could test his limits, his master pulled him off with a firm hand in his hair, long enough for a proper grip now, chuckling at Obi-Wan’s annoyed grumble.

“In the morning, I’ll let you suck me for as long as you like, but for now, I want to make the most of this gift you’ve given me,” his master said, reaching for Obi-Wan and trying to lay him back against the pillows, but Obi-Wan made a decision without any thought, and laid hand on his master’s chest, stilling him. 

“Wait, I want… I mean, can I…”

“Can you what, pet?” His master asked, but Obi-Wan’s cheeks flamed at the idea of describing it. Thankfully, his master came easily when Obi-Wan tugged and pushed at him, until his master was sat back against the headboard, raising an eyebrow as Obi-Wan straddled his lap, two big hands encompassing Obi-Wan’s waist. “Do you want to ride me?”

“Yes please,” Obi-Wan nodded, feeling shy, bolstered by the way his master’s hands squeezed his waist encouragingly. 

“I’d say you’re a little imp this evening, but really you’re just sweet aren’t you?”

“Want to make you feel good, master,” Obi-Wan wanted to whisper seductively, but it sounded more like a nervous mumble, but Qui-Gon smiled at him indulgently, let go of his waist with one hand to hold his own cock, press it up against Obi-Wan’s bottom and back, rubbing his cock against the chiffon dress. 

“You’ve already made me feel good, sweet padawan,” his master praised, making Obi-Wan feel shivery and warm at the same time, pushing his ass back against Qui-Gon’s cock and his master slicked himself generously, his fingers then back at the base of the plug. 

With smooth but firm pull his master drew the plug from Obi-Wan’s hole, Obi-Wan moaning and resting his head on Qui-Gon’s shoulder as the base and slight bulge in the middle of the oval shaped toy stretched his rim, before the plug started to slowly taper. When it slipped free, his master tossed it to the side, wasting no time before pressing the head of his cock to Obi-Wan’s gaping hole. 

“Come on pet, sit down on my cock, be a good boy,” his master coaxed, one hand steadying his cock, the other on Obi-Wan’s waist, guiding him down. 

Obi-Wan whined as the head breached him, his master’s cock forcing him wider than the plug had, the frisson of burn only making him wilder as his body lit up with pleasure, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. It felt different from this angle, his master completely filling him as he always did, stretching him right to his limit as he sunk down, but he also felt deeper somehow. 

Obi-Wan was sweaty with the effort of lowering himself so slowly by the time his bottom reached his master’s hips and he was able to settle, his cock hurting again from the denial, sending little shocks through him as his cock throbbed without release, almost like lots of tiny climaxes, trying to race through him every time his master shifted. 

“Alright pet?” His master asked, voice strained as he petted Obi-Wan’s cheeks through the fabric, making the soft gauzy material rub against his sensitised skin. Obi-Wan nodded, feeling shy in this position, like he was playing a game with his master, reluctant to take control. His master read him easily, smiled at him softly, and moved his hands to Obi-Wan’s hips to guide him into moving, both of them moaning as Obi-wan did as he was guided. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan sighed, holding on to Qui-Gon’s broad shoulders as he rolled his hips in languid movements, the way his master was guiding him. 

“You feel so good pet, and you look so perfect like this, dressed up so prettily, stained pink from your blushes and your desperate little cock hitching up your nice babydoll. Do you feel pretty?”

“Y-yes,” Obi-Wan admitted, cheeks feeling warm as he gained a little momentum, the feeling of his master’s cock grinding deep inside of him making him feel a little dizzy already. 

“Good, you should,” his master responded, coaxing Obi-Wan into moving a little faster, lifting himself up and dropping back down instead of only rocking his master’s cock deeply inside himself. “Sat in my lap, riding me so nicely, you’re making me feel so good, pet,” his master praised, helping Obi-Wan to move faster, planting his feet on the bed to give himself more leverage, and Obi-Wan’s whined when he felt a pull from the force assisting and driving his movements as much as Qui-Gon’s hands. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan moaned, Qui-Gon’s cock was rubbing unrelentingly against his sweet spot, and Obi-Wan found it hard to keep his rhythm with how badly his cock was aching, trapped in the ring, but he kept going, lifting himself up and down on shaking knees, moaned every time at the feeling of his master’s cock pushing back into his hole, until he was panting unintelligibly. 

“You’re taking my cock so well padawan,” Qui-Gon growled, hands tight on Obi-Wan’s hips and Obi-Wan tried to fucked himself down on his master’s thick cock faster, but his legs weren’t cooperating, and with a growl that would have made Obi-Wan come were it not for the ring, his master grabbed him around the waist and shifted them, throwing Obi-Wan down on the bedding and burying himself back in his hole in one swift movement. 

Obi-Wan wailed as his master fucked him hard, ploughing into his hole in hard, rough thrusts of his hips, strong hands on Obi-Wan’s waist stopping him from being forced up the bed. 

“Master, master p-please,” Obi-Wan panted, feeling raw, but craving more anyway, wanting to be taken out of his head more thoroughly, knowing his master would know how. “I want m-more, please master, more.”

With a growl, his master moved his cock slipping out of Obi-Wan’s hole and making him whine loudly in protest as his master climbed of the side of the bed, but before he could speak he was pulled roughly to the edge of the bed, his master’s cock sinking back inside him in one brutal thrust, making Obi-Wan’s eyes roll back. His master had more leverage standing, could fuck Obi-Wan harder just like he wanted, and Obi-Wan's eyes flew open when he felt a large, tattooed hand around his neck. 

“Tap me three times if you want me to let go, do you understand, pet?” His master’s voice was gravel, his hand squeezing Obi-Wan neck gently, briefly. 

“Y-yes master!” Obi-Wan responded around a moan, the hand on his neck making him feel electric and as his master started fucking him again, he squeezed.

Obi-Wan’s reaction was instant, scrabbling against the bedding as his body tried to pant and was denied that as well, one quick moment of panic before he sunk into it, knowing his master would make him feel good. His master released his hold, but kept his hand firmly on Obi-Wan’s neck after a few seconds and Obi-Wan gasped, every feeling intensified even after such a short moment, his master fucking him hard all the while. 

“M-more,” Obi-Wan begged, word hitching as his master fucked into him again and again. 

The hand around his throat tightened again, and held on longer this time, cutting off Obi-Wan’s airway until his body felt everything so loudly, the panic that tried to rear melting into pleasure with every relentless thrust of his master’s cock inside his wrecked hole. Qui-Gon released him again, letting him catch breath that he hadn’t really lost yet, but then, his master started doing it faster, and for longer each time. 

Obi-Wan started to feel light headed as his master choked off his airway again, Obi-Wan gasping as the oxygen rushed back into his body when he released, just long enough for Obi-Wan to feel drunk on the sudden rush before squeezing his throat again. It was a rush, made Obi-Wan feel like a kite in a gale, but anchored so tightly to his master, that he couldn’t be stolen away completely. 

His master squeezed again, held Obi-Wan like that as he fucked his cock into his hole, still tight around his fat cock, going half a dozen times before he released again, Obi-Wan’s building lack of oxygen making him feel alight and buoyant all at the same time, his head light as his cock got heavier, hurt with his need for release. 

Faintly, among all the other sensations assaulting his body with pleasure, Obi-Wan registered that he was crying, making sweet sobbing noises whenever his master let him breathe, gulping in air greedily around his sobs, his master fucking tears from his eyes, exacerbated by his mounting need to breath properly. He was so wrapped up in everything he was feeling, the way his master’s cock never stopped pounding him, the hand rhythmically choking him, that Obi-Wan didn’t notice his master’s other hand releasing the cockring until it was gone. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open, he tried to wail but couldn’t with the hand on his throat, and his body thrashed as much as it could as his orgasm slammed into him, unexpected and sudden, making his entire body convulse with the force of it, his own come hitting his chin. His master released his neck and Obi-Wan gasped for air, the feeling of it rushing back into his lungs more than he could take, and Obi-Wan blacked out from the rush of pleasure.

It could only have been a few moments, but Obi-Wan moaned as soon as he was aware again, his master growling under his breath, tangled praise and curses as he held Obi-Wan’s hips hard, replacing the fading bruises still there as he came in long, thick spurts into Obi-Wan’s hole. 

He almost blacked out again, wondered if he had as he seemed to lose time in snatches, lying limp against the bed. He didn’t feel his master pull out, but he did feel the come dripping down his legs, the warm cloth cleaning him up moments later. Hands that he was relieved never seemed to lose contact with him in these moments. Kisses being rained down on his face, his neck, his shoulders. He had no idea how long it had been when his master gently coaxed him into opening his eyes. 

He wanted Obi-Wan to lift up his arms, so that he could take off his babydoll. It was messy with his come, and wrinkled, but not torn, and so Obi-Wan distantly hoped it could be washed, he had liked the way being in it made him feel. He held his arms up obediently, and his master praised him as he lifted the delicate fabric off of his still shaking frame. 

His master kissed him leisurely, seemed to be using his kisses to draw Obi-Wan back into a more sturdy kind of consciousness, only speaking when he seemed satisfied that Obi-Wan was more present than he had been before.

“I have another present for you, pet. I was going to wait, but you took everything so beautifully today, I want to give it to you now, and I think you’re going to like it,” his master said, and Obi-Wan watched, a little hazy, as his master walked to his chest of drawers and pulled out a nicely wrapped box. 

He helped Obi-Wan to sit up and Obi-Wan tugged at the ribbon, which feel away easily. The box was wooden again, more vines, more waves, but calm, small ones, instead of the raging tempests. He felt disorientated from his recent climax, from that place his master took him too so easily, and was glad when his master steadied him, so he could concentrate better on opening the box. 

His breath hitched as he looked inside, a simple, supple leather collar lay inside. Ob-Wan picked it up with wide eyes, it was a soft pink colour, and felt nice to the touch, not hard and unyielding like some leather, instead it was pliant and delicate, and on a ring meant to rest at the base of his throat, was a simple silver tag that read _‘pet’_.

“Do you like it?” His master murmured, Obi-Wan nodded, unable to look away from his new present. “Would you like it on now?” Obi-Wan nodded more emphatically, looking up at his master pleadingly. 

His master smiled, called him sweet and kissed his nose before taking the collar from his hands and unbuckling it. He sat behind Obi-Wan on the bed and secured it around his neck, kissing the knob at the top of his spine before circling back around in front of Obi-Wan. His master fiddled with the tag until it was central, resting in the hollow of his throat. 

“ _Perfect_ ,” his master praised drinking in the sight of Obi-Wan hungrily, making him feel pretty and wanted; an intoxicating feeling. “Are you all mine, pet?”

“Yes master, all yours,” Obi-Wan responded easily, dreamily, tipping his face more fully into the large palm that cupped his cheek. 

“ _Good_ ,” his master said, a dark, possessive note in his voice that had Obi-Wan shivering and craving more. “Because I never plan to let you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!!! I love you all!!! Obi's inner kinkster is beginning to take hold more fully!! 
> 
> But next chapter is more plotty, as Quigs takes on the hutts ¬‿¬


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mid-day update what??? Also a plotty chapter! Aren't you lucky! Lol no I'm the lucky one you're all wonderful to me and your comments are continuing to fuel my writing fire. 
> 
> I've added the violence content warning tag, mainly just to be absolutely safe, I'd say it's moderate at worst, and in the context of a battle not torture, but make smart choices for yourselves! <3
> 
> This chapter also has art by the very very talented and lovely [Q1](https://q1qqq.tumblr.com/post/626963771486765056/inspired-by-littlelynns-amazing-fic-broken-out) which you can find [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/745938584300683314/745948677985796137/image0.png) and [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/745938584300683314/745950401706328324/image0.png) and below!
> 
> And lovely art by Kurtssingh! Who you can find on [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/kurtssingh/posts) and [tumblr](https://kurtssingh.tumblr.com/)

Obi-Wan didn’t like Nal Hutta. He hadn’t left the ship, but the entire planet was foul smelling marshland, with eye-sore metal cities built over some of it. The smell had gotten in when Qui-Gon, Dooku and _Xanatos_ had left the ship together, and it had been lingering ever since, no matter what Obi-Wan did to try and disperse it.

He also didn’t like that his master had gone without him. They’d been afforded a leisurely morning, where Obi-Wan had tested the limits of his master’s promise that he could spend as long as he liked sucking his cock, and finding that his master was as good as his word, only coaxing Obi-Wan into finishing him when he heard Obi-Wan’s stomach rumble embarrassingly. 

But after breakfast, things had started happening fast. Their ship had docked with Dooku’s, and the older sith had come aboard with a cohort of well-armed droids marching unsubtly behind him - they had been left on the ship, and Obi-Wan didn’t like that either. Qui-Gon had disappeared with Dooku for hours, until they were close to touching down on Nal Hutta. 

He returned to Obi-Wan in a hurry, finding him training unenthusiastically alone in the salle, and as he came in, Xanatos had idled by the door, a smug expression on his face. His master had apologised, said that he had to leave and that the mission was long and could be dangerous, but that he would be back within 48 hours. 

His master left him with his saber, which did nothing to reassure Obi-Wan, but seemed to soothe his master some, until Obi-Wan had caught his arm as he tried to walk away, and asked to come with him. He was a better jedi than Xanatos was a sith, surely? Xanatos wasn’t even being formally trained anymore, it would be better if he was by his master’s side. 

But Qui-Gon had refused him, whether because he thought it was too dangerous, or he still didn’t want Obi-Wan to see his work as a sith, he wasn’t sure, but the fact remained that Obi-Wan was left on the ship, while Xantos strided out beside his master. Obi-Wan tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that Xanatos’ obsession with his master at least meant it wouldn’t have to worry about him betraying Qui-Gon, but the thought was about as helpful as a thin blanket on Hoth. 

His master had tried to distract him with the holotape from the night before, suggesting Obi-Wan watch it if he felt lonely, before sighing and apologising with a kiss when Obi-Wan just scowled around his blush. His kisses were deep and apologetic and he was visibly frustrated when he couldn’t get Obi-Wan to give in to them fully, as he normally would, too agitated about being left behind, but it didn’t change his master’s stance. 

So far, his master had been gone for thirteen hours, and everything on the ship had been quiet, the battle droids powered down and looming eerily along the walls of one of the corridors, Obi-Wan avoiding walking down it, even with the saber now attached to his belt.

He still didn’t know exactly what was going on, everything he knew was vague, a combination of him not being sure if he was allowed to ask, and Qui-Gon never wanting to rehash his work from the day after spending so much time mired in it. From what Obi-Wan could gather, the Hutts should be under the impression this was a simple negotiation over territory, not an ambush, which was why the battle droids had been left on the ship, but it only took one greedy operative to ruin things, or one talented spy to have infiltrated them, for everything to start going wrong. 

Obi-Wan realised as he was pacing the length of the entire ship, that he was worried about his master. He faltered in his step, feeling cold all of a sudden, because he shouldn’t be worried for a sith. Hadn’t his entire plan been to find a way to take Avarus down, so that the jedi would take him in? It made no sense to worry about him on that mission. 

But no, Obi-Wan didn’t know enough about the sith operation yet, and he hadn’t caught up far enough on his training, he wasn’t ready to be taken on by the jedi yet. The time wasn’t right, he still needed Jinn to teach him, and besides, the other sith seemed far worse than his master, surely it would be better if he delivered one of them to the jedi, a bigger threat. Perhaps Dooku, or Opress, would be better than Avarus, for the jedi to have. 

And there was no use denying that Qui-Gon was nothing but kind to Obi-Wan, and was sweet to him every day. No matter what had been said among the sith, Obi-Wan wasn’t completely naive, he knew his master kept most of his unsavoury business out of Obi-Wan’s sight on purpose. But still, Obi-Wan struggled with guilt over the way he felt about his master, over how much he liked being here with him. It was hard to think of the man who treated him like he was precious, as a cruel mobster, especially when he so rarely saw the evidence.

The truth was, he was happier here than he had ever been, his life as an initiate - and certainly Bandomeer - could not even come close to touching the feelings his master gave him. Another strain of guilt, when Obi-Wan remembered that he was not supposed to feel emotion this strongly, his serenity slipped further away each day. 

His failure to reconcile his still-enduring dreams of becoming a jedi with the tight feeling the ideas of betraying and leaving his master gave him, meant that most of the time his solution was to simply not think about it at all; it would take him years to be trained properly, wouldn’t it? He could worry about such things when the time came. His master was often telling him to live more in the moment. 

And in this moment, he released all of his conflicting feelings to the force, and instead allowed himself to worry. A jedi shouldn’t, but some leeway was surely afforded to padawans who were only learning, and no matter how hard he had tried, his anxiety over his master’s safety wouldn’t leave him in peace. So he paced. 

He felt helpless, he wasn’t even allowed to leave the ship to get some fresh air - not that any of the air on this pit of a planet felt _fresh_ \- given the strict instructions his master had given him to stay put. Stay put, while he risked his life for some sith-damned operation to get rid of the Hutts. Well, at the very least Obi-Wan would admit that a galaxy without the Hutts would likely be a slightly nicer place, but that didn’t mean he thought it was worth his master risking his life over. 

In the end, Obi-Wan ended up pacing his way through the ship again, until he was standing outside the door to the external surveillance room; because his master had one of those, aboard his oversized ship. Obi-Wan knew inside that room he would be able to hear what was going on, all of the trio that had gone to Sechisk Fesk’s palace, the residence of the current Hutt boss; a place that Obi-Wan had no doubt would be well defended both internally and externally. Getting in was not the only problem his master was going to face.

Obi-Wan balled his fists by his sides. He knew his master was clever, a formidable tactician and beautiful and deadly in a fight. He was strong and he was clever, and he had certainly thought of anything that Obi-Wan, an untested padawan, could manage to anticipate. But that didn’t make him feel a lot better. 

In some ways, he was used to inaction, he had spent years on Bandomeer doing nothing of import. Nothing there had required his attention beyond the banalities of his daily job, and that had made his sedentary life on Bandomeer both more bearable, and entirely unbearable as his own insignificance had begun to leech in. All Obi-Wan was sure of, was that this felt worse; sharp and urgent, where the way he had felt on Bandomeer had been a dull, unending ache.

He understood patience, the need for inactivity sometimes, even when your being called out for action. But not even knowing what was happening, was something that he could not tolerate. He didn’t want to be a bystander to his own life, had to at least know what was going on. And with that thought, Obi-Wan hammered on the door. 

The scan of his palm wouldn’t open this door, his master withholding the room from him, either because he didn’t know where Obi-Wan’s loyalties lay, or because he worried Obi-Wan wouldn’t like what he found inside; but none of that mattered right now, and Obi-Wan hammered relentlessly on the metal until it finally slipped open. 

The man who cracked it open had a pinched expression, and the forced nicety that came out of his mouth was jarring. “Master Kenobi, if you require assistance with something, then could I ask that you seek it from somewhere else? We are conducting a very delicate operation in this room and need to remain focused.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan scowled, angry at being patronised, being spoken to like a child in need of entertainment. “Let me in, I need to know what’s going on.” He tried to move forward, but the man kept the door mostly closed, held it firm.

“I am sorry, sir, but Lord Avarus gave me clear instructions not to allow you to enter the room,” he replied, looking like he was enjoying telling Obi-Wan _no_ more than anything else in his life. 

“And did he give you permission to use force against me?” Obi-Wan asked, an edge to his voice that surprised himself, his irritation growing when the man’s eyes scanned up and down him derisively, and the condescension in his expression grew. 

“I am sure that won’t be necessary, good day Master Kenobi, I am sure TK-17 wouldn’t mind assisting you with anything you might need,” he added, voice filled with fake nicety while his expression was smug and he shut the door in Obi-Wan’s face. 

Obi-Wan stood there, a little confounded, as he realised that no one aboard the ship apart from his master, and likely Xanatos, had any real idea what he could do. What did they think he was then? Playing dress up in his robes and calling Jinn his master for fun?

Oh.

Obi-Wan realised with a rising blush and deeper frustration, that that was probably exactly what they thought. That he was a toy his master was playing with, and little else, dressed up to look like a jedi padawan - when clearly he _wasn’t_ \- as some kind of titillating game. Occasionally others would see him spar, but his master generally liked to keep the salles clear for them, and you didn’t need to be force sensitive to hold a lightsaber. 

And it wasn’t as if he was ever able to best his master anyway, anyone who had walked in with business was just as likely to have seen him getting manhandled and teased as they were any actual training. So the staff aboard this ship thought that he was nothing more than a decoration; and one they didn’t like. 

Fine, Obi-Wan thought, and briefly considered giving them the shock of their life by getting through the door with a liberal use of the force. Because he _could_ get through the door, his irritation was mounting and his fingers itched with a desire to reach out with the force and wrench it open. But Obi-Wan made himself pause, the people inside that room _were_ doing something important for Qui-Gon, and causing a ruckus in there might mena he only ended up endangering his master more. 

But there were other ways to access audio feeds, and Obi-Wan swept off down the corridor and back to his master’s room. There was an advanced computer sat in a small alcove, the plant Obi-Wan had bought sitting on the desk. Obi-Wan had never used it before, probably wasn’t allowed to, but he hadn’t been explicitly forbidden and even if he had he probably would have pressed on regardless. 

He couldn’t get in to any of his master’s files, all of them encrypted and beyond his reach, but that wasn’t what he needed anyway. He used to be good at this as an initiate, which the temple teachers had never been sure was a good or bad thing, but was helping him now. Technology had advanced during his time on Bandomeer, but not so much that he couldn’t find his way through. 

From here, his master had access to all of the security feeds in the ship, and with only a little finagling, Obi-Wan managed to get into the current feed pouring into the surveillance room, the guttural sounds of Huttse pouring out of the speakers. Obi-Wan only spoke it poorly, so he couldn’t understand most of what was being said by the Hutts, but his master was speaking common, and Obi-Wan felt instantly calmed by the low rumble of his voice, even made staticky over the comms.

From the half of the conversation he could understand - and Obi-Wan berated himself, making a note to increase his attention to a wider range of languages, the ones he would need by Qui-Gon’s side were different from the ones he saw as important as a jedi - his master and the Hutts were still discussing territory. They must be waiting for the pieces to fall into place, before making their move. 

He found a layout of the Hutt palace and pulled it up, studying the complex in detail. It was a maze, the upper floors full of wide corridors and cavernous rooms, while the lowest 

Obi-Wan couldn’t understand the words, but he picked up no less than seven Hutt voices, and that didn’t account for all of the security there would be in the palace that weren’t speaking on the comms. The Hutt’s themselves were poor combatants, so Obi-Wan could only imagine what kind of hired guards they had, and with their wealth and power, just how many too. 

But his master’s voice was calm, Dooku’s too, and Xanatos spoke little. As his master started speaking about the Lothal sector and the Archeon pass, Obi-Wan felt himself being lulled to sleep by the simple sound of his voice, curling into his folded arms resting on the desk. 

He woke with a start a few hours later, as the loud, unmistakable sound of blaster fire rang through the comms.

“Master!” Obi-Wan shouted, even though there was no one to hear him, his hands going to the holoscreen and reaching out helplessly. 

He listened closely, recognised the cadence of his master’s breathing, and one of the iron bands gripping his chest loosened, he was alive then. But he sounded like he was running, things were being yelled in Huttse, and the blaster fire continued in a never-pausing cacophony, accompanied only by the occasional humming sweep of his master’s lightsaber. 

Obi-Wan balled his fists, he never should have fallen asleep, it was stupid of him, now he had no idea what was going on, only that there was a fight, not where or who was winning, or if this was the planned altercation; or if something had gone wrong. He strained to hear anything that might help him, enhancing the audio quality as much as he could with his limited knowledge. The blaster fire receded, and his heard the sound of a lightsaber being turned off, after that there was a stretching silence that made him hold his breath. Eventually, his master spoke in a low voice into his comm. 

“I’ve been separated from the others.” His frustration was evident, Obi-Wan picked up an uncharacteristic strain in his master’s voice. “Continue as planned, I will find my own route out.” His master’s voice was so clipped, short and tight, and that he had retreated from the fight with the receding blaster fire, the silence that had preceded his message.

Obi-Wan realised, his master was not only separated, he was injured. 

Obi-Wan worked fast, forcing his hands not to shake as he transferred the comm feed onto a hand-held communicator. Then he raced into the ‘fresher, grabbing the bacta gel kept in the cabinet and shoving it into the pocket of his cloak before racing out of the room. Other than his lightsaber, it was all he needed, and he used the force to run faster, as he tore towards the exit. 

The door was being manned and the two guards looked confused when Obi-Wan materialised from a blur. 

“Open the door!” Obi-Wan barked, it spurred them into action; though not the action he wanted. 

“Sorry sir, Darth Avarus’ orders were very clear: no one leaves the ship,” he replied.

“Open it!” He shouted, attempting a force suggestion, but he wasn’t calm enough for it to work. 

“But sir we’re about to move the ship to another location, we can’t stay here now, you won’t be able to find us, Avarus will have my _head_ if you ain’t still here,” the guard said, and then their eyes grew alarmed, stepping back as Obi-Wan lit his saber. 

“I am going through that door,” he said with a calmness he didn’t feel. “So you can either take your chances with Avarus later, or you can miss _later_ all together.” He took a step forward.

The guard reacted by fumbling with the control panel, and opening the door. Obi-Wan didn’t pause, dashing through and towards the palace north-east from where they had landed, two miles, he could make it in just over five minutes if he used the force, but he was no use to his master if he was exhausted by the time he got there, and made himself go a little slower, clutching the comm closely.

His master hadn’t spoken again, keeping quiet, but Obi-Wan could still hear him breathing, more heavily than he would expect after such a rest, further confirming Obi-Wan’s suspicion that he was hurt. He wondered why his master hadn’t said so over the comm; if he feared a spy, or he simply didn’t trust the other sith not to take advantage of a perceived weakness. 

When the palace came into view, smoking and the sounds of fighting already reaching his ears, Obi-wWan ducked into an alleyway to hide. He needed a plan, visualised the plan of the building he’d been studying before falling asleep. His master wouldn’t be hiding in the upper levels with the wide corridors, he would be on the lower level, where the Hutts themselves could’t easily reach with their rotund, slug-like bodies. 

It wouldn’t stop the guards pouring through the level though, so he would have to be somewhere he could hide easily, and he wouldn’t back himself into a corner willingly. The kitchen complex was huge, the Hutts eating so much, and their palace often brimming with staff and guests meant that cooking was a large operation. Every room had multiple exits, and if it was anything like any other kitchen Obi-Wan had seen, it would be cluttered and filled with places to hide. 

It was his best option, the only way he could know for sure where his master was stranded would be to contact him, but he was only picking up the audio, not able to respond, and even if he could, he’d risk the noise alerting the Hutt’s to his whereabouts, if someone was snooping around. 

His cloak billowed in the dank weather as he ran towards the palace, the drizzle was making the metal ground slick, and he slipped more than once, having to use the force to stay upright. There were people fighting at the gates, Obi-Wan hadn’t realised that his master had brought so many men and droids with him, there must have been another ship Obi-Wan hadn’t known about filled with them. 

He took a sharp turn and scaled the wall, the turrets that would usually make such a move impossible busy firing towards the fight at the front gate. He dropped down silently, and moved in the shadows, staying outside until he reached the staff entrance, near the kitchens, immediately greeted up a staircase leading down. 

He moved as quickly as he could, not wanting to get caught on the stairs. He could hear the sounds of fighting in other parts of the palace, and the barked orders and heavy footfalls of patrols searching the lower level. There were six kitchens in total, and Obi-Wan was deftly avoiding the patrols, reaching out with the force to try and sense his master, but then his communicator crackled, his master grunting and the sounds of fighting blaring over it loud and clear, an echo of the sounds coming from two kitchens down. 

He gasped, unable to mute the communicator in time, the patrol he had been sneaking past turning in alarm and seeing him, blasters raised. 

“What the fuck,” one of the pair said, barrel of the gun dropping slightly as confusion swept over him. 

Obi-Wan realised that they thought he was a jedi, and had no idea what side he was on, or what the hell he was doing here. He used their confused pause to gain the upper hand, swiping out their legs with a quick kick, and bringing some boxes down upon them to knock them out soundly. He didn’t bother to drag them into the shadows, the sounds of fighting leaving him unable to think of anything else as he dashed for the kitchen. 

There were bodies strew about the room most of them guards, but two cooks among them, saber burns over their chests, but Obi-Wan didn’t have time to let his concentration falter over that, because there were also plenty of guards still standing, a hail of blaster fire raining down on his master who was blocking and deflecting, body moving in a deadly dance even as the colour drained from his face, and he held his left shoulder awkwardly, bleeding heavily and accounting for the smears of blood all over the floor. 

He almost shouted for his master, but knew that could only possibly distract him, the guards were so focused on the sith lord in front of them, no one had even noticed him enter, giving him the upper hand. He lit his saber, a blue glow joining the red of the gloomy underground room. The one closest to him noticed, but too slowly, Obi-Wan cutting him down with a stroke of blue. 

As he crumpled to the floor, his presence was registered by everyone else in the room, panic and confusion warring as the guards found themselves unexpectedly flanked, and tried to process the padawan standing in their midst. 

“Padawan!” His master called, alarm rich in his voice, as he registers Obi-Wan’s presence. 

He couldn’t risk distracting his master, had to move quickly, and with that, Obi-Wan began cutting through the guards as they grew frantic. They knew the moment they stopped suppressing Avarus with so much blaster fire, they would be fighting on two fronts, but they had to divert attention to Obi-Wan’s assault, three guards already on the ground as he cleaved through them like warm butter. They were no challenge, their numbers and his master’s injury had been the only thing on their side. With only five left, his master was freed up, joining the fray with a limp and sagging shoulder, though he didn’t so much as wince as he moved. 

Obi-Wan cut down the last guard and felt something thick gathering in his throat looking at the bodies on the floor. People he had just killed to save a sith lord. His hand was shaking as he switched off his saber, gut twisting with anxiety. But he was distracted, by a bloody hand gripping his shoulder, his master turning him to face him. 

“Obi-Wan, what are you _doing_ here, you could be hurt, you could be killed! I told you to stay on the ship,” his master demanded, clearly angry, voice loud and strained. Obi-Wan saw a second injury, a deep gash in his master’s thigh, adding to the blood pouring down from his shoulder. 

“Master you’re hurt,” Obi-Wan ignored his words, trying and failing to push his resistive master into the only stool that was still standing. His master’s hand tightened painfully on his shoulder and he shook Obi-Wan once. 

“You were supposed to be out of harm’s way! I don’t want you here,” Jinn growled, hurt stabbing through his chest at the words. 

“Well tough!” Obi-Wan shouted, surprising them both. “What was I supposed to do? Listen to you die over the comms? No, I am your padawan and you were in trouble so I came to help you. Now show me your shoulder.”

“It’s fine.”

“It is not!”

“We don’t have time for this Obi-Wan, more guards will be coming, the patrol called for backup as soon as they found me, they’ll be here soon, and there’s nothing you could do fast enough and with the things in this kitchen even if they weren’t.”

“There’s bacta in my cloak just _sit down_ so I can put it on your thigh and shoulder so you don’t pass out from blood loss before we can get out of here!”

“How did you know I was hurt?” His master asked, but he was at least pulling his clothes away from his grizzly wounds, not even flinching when Obi-Wan quickly massaged the gel onto them, hands becoming sticky with blood and bacta.

“I just knew.” 

“Force that’s nice,” his master groaned as Obi-Wan rubbed gel into the gash on his leg, even though it must have hurt to touch, the healing gel immediately soothing the wound and staunching the bleeding. 

“We have to go,” Obi-Wan said, beginning to hear the sounds of running footsteps heading towards them, he wiped his hand off on his cloak as his master steeled himself. 

They had to step over a carpet of bodies to reach the exit they wanted, and Obi-Wan tried not to look at their faces. These people, whoever they were, were loyal to the Hutts, they were no better than the sith anyway. It wasn’t as though Obi-Wan had cut down republic soldiers to save his master. 

There were guards in the corridors, lots of them, but their numbers meant little when they were bottlenecked like this, and the bacta was already working wonders on his master’s leg, his movements surer, faster and stronger. He cut through the people in front of them as Obi-Wan defended their backs from the guards running down the long corridor towards them, deftly deflecting back blaster fire that they were unable to dodge in the cramped conditions.

_Kurtssingh_

Qui-Gon’s hand grabbed his as he cut through the last of the guards to their front, pulling Obi-Wan along, Obi-Wan having to use the force to keep up with his master’s long strides as they broke out of the building. The fighting had increased tenfold in the few minutes he had been inside, both sides appeared to have had their numbers bolstered, and most of the fighting had moved outside. 

He noticed Dooku fighting with a cohort of droids, successfully stopping a Hutt trying to escape in a speeder, cutting the gangster down. Xanatos was with him, and Obi-Wan hated that he was skilled with a lightsaber after all, could see him laughing with every stroke. 

His attention was stolen again, when a wave of guards caught up with them, surrounding them and thick in numbers. His master growled low in his throat, releasing Obi-Wan’s hand to move him behind him, going back to back and both relighting their sabers. 

_Q1_

“Remember your training, padawan, these guards are no match for you,” his master said, and the guards raised their weapons nervously, eyes flitting between the pair of them. 

“I will make you proud, master,” Obi-Wan replied, adjusting his grip and taking up an aggressive stance, just like his master preferred. 

“You do little else,” his master said before words were lost in the deluge of fire.

They moved in unison, Obi-Wan had only ever sparred with his master, they had never had the opportunity to fight together against a common enemy, not even against a third sparring partner. It shocked Obi-Wan, how well they moved together, so different in size and style, Obi-Wan using quick strikes while his master favoured overwhelming force. But they filled the space each other left perfectly. Obi-Wan knew, as if by instinct, when his master’s left flank needed protecting, and his master caught two blaster shots Obi-Wan had missed without even turning to look.

The force seemed to hum between them, so loud Obi-Wan almost felt as though he could feel it reverberating in his bones as they balanced perfectly, the force following in currents between them, feeding off and bolstering them both in unison, as if his master were thunder, and Obi-Wan lightning. 

In some ways, this was his first ever mission, and it was exhilarating, the guards were dropping around them, dead if they got too close but worn down and killed with their own blaster fire if they didn’t. Obi-Wan wondered if this what what feeling drunk was like, he felt like he was soaring, every deflection of his saber lighting him up as they cleared themselves a path.

He twirled with no warning, and his master covered him perfectly, making space without needing words, turning to cover his form, cutting down three more guards as Obi-Wan took another two, both of them panting as the group that had surrounded them was reduced to just two, with panic filled eyes as he and his master bore down on them, and left them crumpling to the earth.

Their immediate surroundings cleared, they headed for the main gate, the news that the Hutts were all dead spreading through the guards, realising that even if they won, they had already lost in every way that counted. It was making most of them flee, Xanatos and Dooku were cutting them down as they ran, but his master seemed more interested in getting them both back to the ship. 

He gasped in pain as a blaster shot caught him in the shoulder, his master whirling, roaring when he saw Obi-Wan clasping his shoulder. He pinpointed the guard who had fired and dragged him forwards brutally using the force, while he put his lightsaber on his belt, and pulled out a jewelled dagger instead. He caught the guard by the neck with his tattooed hand and drove the dagger through his stomach, blood flowing out over his hand as he cut him open, more violently and slowly than his lightsaber would have done. 

His master tossed the guard aside as he still gurgled for breath, taking Obi-Wan’s hand in his own, bloodied one, and pulling him forward again as a more loyal and well armed elite troop of guards bore down on them. His hand was slick, but he held Obi-Wan’s hand fast, and Obi-Wan curled his fingers around his master’s hand tightly in return. 

In the distances, two ships started firing - his master’s ship, and the second that Obi-Wan hadn’t known about, taking down the distracted air defences which had been trying to support the Hutt ground troops, and touching down on the central landing pad.

They were faster than the guards, much faster, and outran them easily, the force singing between them and the adrenaline of the fight propelling them towards their ship faster than should have been possible, and when they saw the ships land, the guard retreated back to the palace, into the waiting blades of Dooku and Xanatos.

His master threw open the door up the boarding ramp to the ship, wrenching Obi-Wan inside and throwing him back against the wall bodily, crowing him back against it. His master’s hands were still covered in blood, it was smearing over Obi-Wan’s cheeks as he clasped Obi-Wan’s face in his hands and kissed him desperately. 

Obi-Wan didn’t care, one hand clinging to his master’s tattered shirt with a vice like grip, and letting himself be devoured by Qui-Gon’s hungry mouth, his other hand resting over the comforting thump of his master’s heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man all that post-battle adrenaline! I wonder how they're going to choose to burn it off in the next chapter ¬‿¬ find out tomorrow with a chapter starring Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, feat. exhibitionism...


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your daily instalment is heerreeeee!! As always your comments have made me P E R I S H so once again I am a ghost, so congrats everyone on simultaneously bringing me life and giving me death repeatedly <3
> 
> I promised adrenaline fuelled sex and it's here!! Qui-pov!!! Exhibitionism!! coming on command!!! A F T E R C A R E!!!

Qui-Gon felt lost, consumed by Obi-Wan in a way he never had been before. He was smearing blood all over his face - blood of that  _ rodent _ who had thought he could hurt what was  _ his _ and survive it - but Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind, and Qui-Gon couldn’t stop himself. They were safe in his ship, the door was closed, the fight was all but won before they left, and he wanted his padawan with a growing need.

There were guards at the door, but Qui-Gon didn’t care, and Obi-Wan either hadn’t noticed, or had decided that in this moment, so high on adrenaline and the rush from the fight, he didn’t care either. Qui-Gon ignored them in favour of his padawan’s mouth, and the way his delicate hands were pulling at Qui-Gon’s shirt.

It was already ripped from the fight, and Obi-Wan’s grip was shredding it further, the sound of each individual thread that snapped under the pressure violently stoking the desire that had been coursing through Qui-Gon’s veins from the first guard his perfect padawan cut down. His pet hadn’t even hesitated, and when they were fighting together in the courtyard, he could feel Obi-Wan’s presence in the force  _ singing _ . So bright it had almost hurt Qui-Gon to try to concentrate on, like it was going to burn him, if he got too close. But the risk of a little pain had never deterred him before, and it was no different now

He pressed his leg between his padawan’s, so much taller than him that Obi-Wan gasped as he was hitched up, balancing just on his very tip toes, almost all of his weight on Qui-Gon’s thigh, which he was pushing relentlessly into Obi-Wan’s hardening cock. Even after these last months, his pet was desperate for it, so responsive to touch and attention that he could get hard in seconds, still came on a hair trigger if Qui-Gon kissed him or stroked him just right. 

His shirt tore further under Obi-Wan’s grip, and Qui-gon heard himself growl, biting down on Obi-Wan’s lip and making his padawan cry out in pleasure, rut down on Qui-Gon’s thigh like the needy little thing they both knew he was. 

“Unless you stop me, pet, I’m going to have you right here,” Qui-Gon growled, lifting one of Obi-Wan’s legs with a firm grip and hitching it around his hip, Obi-Wan moving with him, throwing his head back against the unforgiving metal wall with a clunk as Qui-Gon rutted his hard cock against his padawan’s. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Obi-Wan whined, as Qui-Gon and thought - hoped - that he would, his hands finally leaving the tatters of Qui-Gon’s shirt to cling on to his shoulders instead. The bacta had worked fast, but there was still a fresh wound on his shoulder, but Qui-Gon barely registered the discomfort, around the arousal flaring through him with every pant of his padawan’s breath. 

“Are you sure, pet,” Qui-Gon purred. “Right here in the corridor? People are going to see us, they’re going to see me taking what’s  _ mine _ , aren’t they pet.”

“T-they’ see?” Obi-Wan asked, voice taking on a nervous edge and pulling his master closer, as if to hide himself from view, Qui-Gon chuckled lowly in his ear, nipping at the lobe as his padawan squirmed in his hold. 

“Yes pet, anyone in this corridor is going to see me expose that perfect little ass of yours, and they’re going to see as I finger you open for my cock, and they’re going to see as you take my cock so well,” Qui-Gon replied, voice low and gravelly as he thought about it, cock throbbing in his pants. He didn’t have the patience to get Obi-Wan back to their room, to privacy, he needed him now. 

He could feel Obi-Wan’s pulse still hammering wildly, ratcheting up as Qui-Gon spoke and he whimpered when Qui-Gon cupped a hand around his little cock, through too many layers of clothes, squeezing him, half tempted to make his padawan come right now. He was young, got hard quickly, would last a little longer then when Qui-Gon did fuck him. 

“Naughty,” Obi-Wan murmured, biting at his lip, cheeks that pretty pink colour, but his cock betraying his real thoughts, jerking in Qui-Gon’s hold, and Qui-Gon could already feel a dampness gathering at his top, even through the fabric. . 

“No pet,  _ good _ . Everyone will see what a good boy you are, taking your master’s cock wherever he wants you to. They’re all going to be jealous of me, because they’ll know that you’re mine, aren’t you pet? They’ll see my big cock inside your tight little hole, and they’ll know you’ll only ever be mine; isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours master,  _ please _ ,” Obi-Wan whimpered, his eyes were shut, his little cock jerking freely with every word Qui-Gon said, bearing his neck as Qui-Gon ducked in closer and started biting a lin along his jaw. 

“Good boy pet, such a perfect little padawan for your master,” Qui-Gon praised, pouring out of his mouth like honey, taking Obi-Wan’s searching lips in a deep, sensual kiss, fucking his tongue in and out of Obi-Wan’s mouth as he cupped his cock through his clothes, encouraged Obi-Wan to fuck into his hand. “But first I want you to come, I want you to mess up your lovely padawan robes with your come. I can feel how desperate you are, and you’ve been so good already.”

“M-master - ” Obi-Wan panted, balancing on his toes and rocking as much as he could into Qui-Gon’s palm. He wanted to be good, it drove Obi-Wan more than anything else ever did, he wanted to be a good person, and he wanted to be good at his training, and he wanted to be his master’s good boy whenever he asked. Qui-Gon decided to test just how far that theory ran. 

“Come pet, now,” he ordered, grinding his paled against his padawan’s cock, his own throbbing as Obi-Wan wailed, nails digging into his skin, making his shoulder flare with pain and pleasure, his padawan’s cock spasming and spilling into his clothes. 

Qui-Gon rained praise down on Obi-Wan as he shivered and shook his way through the aftershocks of is sudden orgasm, rubbing his cock until Obi-Wan started to whine from oversensitivity, and then rubbing him a little longer still, until his breaths were hitching, and his moans were becoming plantitive - though never discouraging, even when it must have been too much for him. 

He kissed Obi-Wan’s slack lips, and reached into his padawan’s pockets, fishing out the bacta gal his pet had so thoughtfully brought with him to the fight, knowing it could serve a new purpose now. Obi-Wan tried to kiss him back, sloppy and uncoordinated, like he had been the first time Qui-Gon had taken him. So sweet under his hands, his body gone pliant. 

With gentle hands, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan’s cloak off his shoulders, discarding it to the side now that he had what he wanted from its pockets. Then he tugged off Obi-Wan’s boots and pushed Obi-Wan’s pants and underwear down, stripping them off of him completely, leaving his padawan exposed but crowding him up against the wall again. He kissed him thoroughly, blanketing his body as if to shield it from prying eyes, as if anyone on this ship was fool enough to look at what was  _ his _ . 

He wanted to fuck his padawan, didn’t have the patience to get them back to his rooms, and he wanted to stake a claim on this perfect boy, make sure that everyone knew who he belonged to. He would raze more than one measly palace, if anyone ever touched him. But none of that meant that he wanted anyone to be able to see his pet, not properly, only in flashes, only so that they  _ knew _ , not enough for their eyes to so much as glimpse what was his. 

He felt hungry with it, possessiveness rising in Qui-Gon like a cresting wave, making him feel wild, almost out of control with it, the feeling only amplified when his pet whimpered at his exposure, cuddled in tighter to Qui-Gon’s body, as if to hide himself from view, when they both well knew he liked it. 

He shifted his grip, holding his padawan’s little ass in his hands, his palms and fingers spanning the entirety of Obi-Wan’s cute little bottom, massaging his hands, pulling them aside so that he could press two dry fingers against his hole. Obi-Wan whined, sought out Qui-Gon’s lips for more of his kisses as he wrapped his legs around Qui-Gon’s waist, pinned between his body and the wall. 

Qui-Gon held him up with one hand under his ass, opening the cap of the bacta gel with the force and liberally squeezin some out onto his fingers before letting the tube fall to the floor. He crowded closer to Obi-Wan still and circled two of his fingers at Obi-Wan’s rim, testing his hole, making his padawan squeeze him tighter and whine as Qui-Gon slipped one finger inside of him, pressing deep to the third knuckle. 

Obi-Wan’s body was used to this by now, responding beautifully and opening so easily around Qui-Gon’s finger, it was like his body remembered, as if no matter how much his little ass managed to tighten up, it was always just waiting to be filled again. He could slip a second finger inside Obi-Wan easily, after just a few moments of stretching him in one, pressing the slick digit in alongside the first, kissing Obi-Wan to drink down his moans as he was opened. 

“M-master, master please,” Obi-Wan whined, he was trying to roll his hip down onto Qui-Gon’s hand, beg for more with his body, but caught as he was in this position, he didn’t have the leverage to do anything at all. It made his padawan wilder, moan louder, beg more sweetly than before. 

“So good pet,” Qui-Gon purred as he scissored him open, pressing his fingers deep and letting them glance over Obi-Wan’s prostate every few strokes, his pet’s body still spasming with oversensitivity every time he did, crying out, but asking for more, not for him to stop. 

“Feels tingly,” Obi-Wan said, voice soft and hot as he tried to wriggle around on Qui-Gon’s fingers, pushing the gel deep inside him.

“Hmm, and do you like that, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, and when Obi-Wan nodded frantically, Qui-Gon tried to file it in his arousal flooded mind, knowing there were plenty of products he could buy his pet that would elicit the same sensation. 

Obi-Wan groaned greedily around the third finger that entered him, wriggling in Qui-Gon’s hold, panting, digging his finger’s into Qui-Gon’s shoulders, so close to his wound, the back of his thigh grazing against the bacta’ed gash on Qui-Gon’s, but the pain only electrified him, made him feel even more alive in this moment, with his padawan wrapped around him.

On three fingers, he fucked Obi-Wan harder, driving them in and out of his hole, tugging at his rim, a blush rising in his padawan's cheeks as the wet noises of Qui-Gon’s fingers in his hole joined the sounds of their panting. Obi-Wan’s hands found their way to his hair, tangled in the long locks, and the next time Qui-Gon pressed his fingers against Obi-Wan’s prostate, he cried out and  _ pulled _ . Qui-Gon growled with it, drawing Obi-Wan into a biting kiss, stealing his whines as they grew more and more high pitched, until they couldn’t even be heard anymore. 

He pressed the fourth finger inside of Obi-Wan, his padawan moaning around the new stretch, though they both knew his body could take it, that Obi-Wan loved feeling wide open, because it meant that he could be  _ filled _ . 

“You’re almost ready pet,” Qui-Gon praised as Obi-Wan’s hole gradually loosened to accommodate his four fingers, spreading them as wide as they would go before bringing them together again, spearing Obi-Wan on them and then widening his fingers again. Over and over until his padawan felt sloppy even around four of his fingers, and his little cock was back to drooling against his stomach.

“I’m ready master, please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, and Qui-Gon drew his fingers from Obi-Wan’s hole with a wet noise. He called the bacta back to him with the force, quickly undid the fastenings on his trousers so that he could pull his throbbing cock free, and coat it in the gel, which did seem to tingle a little; he could only imagine how it felt massaged into Obi-Wan’s inner muscles, and rubbed against his prostate. 

He held his fat cockhead against Obi-Wan’s hole, it was the first time his padawan was going to take him without the help of the large toys Qui-Gon had bought for him, but the plugs were a long way away, and they wanted each other now. Obi-Wan was free of nerves, his body begging for him, and Qui-Gon used the last tatters of his self-control to slide in slowly, instead of slamming inside his padawan like he wanted to. 

The difference was intense, Obi-Wan without that extra stretch had him like a vice around the head of Qui-Gon’s cock, had his padawan wailing and thrashing around - though he was pulling Qui-Gon closer with the legs around his waist, not attempting to push him away. Nothing had ever felt this good around his cock, no lover in the past, not the legendary whores that had been pushed at him to try and gain his favour; no one and nothing was as good as his padawan. 

He was impossibly tight, but yielding under Qui-Gon’s assault as he pressed gradually inside of him, Obi-Wan’s breath hitching and panting as Qui-Gon fed him each inch of his cock in a slow but undeniable movement. He sucked dark bruises into Obi-Wan’s neck, focussing on the sharp taste of his padawan’s sweat and softness of his skin to try and stop himself from his nearly overwhelming desire to bury himself in that delicious heat as quickly as he could. 

“Faster master, please, please I want more,” Obi-Wan begged, tears were gathering at his eyes even as he begged for more. Qui-Gon couldn’t resist him, pushed himself forward a little faster as his padawan wailed and sobbed. His little cock was wet against his lower tummy, and a pretty shade of red, and he smiled as his padawan took his own cock in a hard grip, to stop himself from coming again, squeezing meanly at the base of his own cock. 

“Oh pet, is your greedy little cock ready to come again already?” Qui-Gon murmured, voice strained from this long, inexorable press inside Obi-Wan’s body, his padawan flushing scarlet down past the neckline of his shirts. “You don’t have to hold it off pet, I like to see you come, and you know as soon as I start fucking your hungry hole you’re not going to be able to stop yourself anyway, are you? Either way, I’m going to fuck your sensitive little body and fill you up with my come.”

“M-master,” Obi-Wan whined, still holding onto his cock desperately. 

“Hush pet. If you come now, I promise to make you come a third time, before I’m done with you,” Qui-Gon said, pulling Obi-Wan’s hand away from his cock, leaving his padawan whining with embarrassment. He ran a finger up his little cock and played with the wetness dripping around the head of his cock, already messy with one release. 

Finally, he pressed the last inch on his cock inside Obi-Wan’s hole, his pet’s eyes rolling back as he was filled to the limit, and with his fingers still toying with the head of his cock, Qui-Gon ordered him to come. Obi-Wan’s reaction was immediate, wailing and his body tightening, squeezing Qui-Gon’s cock so hard it almost made him dizzy. Obi-Wan’s come caught on his fingers, mixing with the blood still smeared over his hand, the rest splattering against Obi-Wan’s shirts, making a mess of them. 

“Such a good boy,” Qui-Gon praised, holding Obi-Wan’s thigh with his messy hand, his other no longer having to steady his cock, holding Obi-Wan’s ass, fingers grazing against his stretched rim. “Coming when I tell you too, so excited just from the feeling of my cock in your tight little hole.”

“Mas- _ ter _ ,” Obi-Wan’s breath caught and devolved into a loud whine, his body shivering, as Qui-Gon pulled his hips back, until only the head of his cock was left inside Obi-Wan, and fucked back inside him in a deep push. 

His padawan started sniffling, crying sweetly as Qui-Gon started to thrust into his hypersensitive body, the stimulation firing uncontrollably around him, his little cock soft even as it was dribbling precome. He found Obi-Wan’s lips, distracted him with kisses as he start driving himself into Obi-Wan’s pliant, soft body with more force. 

He hooked his arms under Obi-Wan’s knees, pushing him more heavily against the wall, pinned more than he was really begging held as Qui-Gon’s cock plunged in and out of his hole. Qui-Gon loved this, could get lost in it, the feeling of Obi-Wan so hot and tight around him, the soft little sounds he made, the way he begged for more even as tears slipped down his cheeks, even as he could barely form words.

He could tell his padawan was slipping, overstimulation pushing him into subspace faster than anything else managed to, trapped between the cold wall of the ship and Qui-Gon’s heated body. He was hitting his prostate on purpose, grinding his cock into the bundle of nerves just to see the way Obi-Wan’s body tremored, the way his ass spasmed around his cock. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone come down the corridor and freeze as he took in the sight in front of him, out of his other, he saw the guards manning the door, looking studiously at the floor.  _ Good _ . Before the lieutenant could scurry away, QUi-Gon caught Obi-Wan’s chin, turned it towards their fleeing intruder, and made sure his padawan had seen, knowing he had at the answering moan, the way he pulled Qui-Gon closer still, so that he could hide his face in his neck. 

“So good, pet,” Qui-Gon grunted, almost drowned out by the loud sounds of his skin smacking against Obi-Wan’s every time he thrust inside him. Obi-Wan’s little cock was hard and straining again, the noises pouring freely out of his padawan’s mouth and directly into his own making it clear that he was walking a line between pain and pleasure, and that he  _ liked _ it. 

Obi-Wan moved his arms, wrapping them more fully around Qui-Gon’s shoulders, mouthing at the skin on his shoulder, muffling hsi sweet little noises as Qui-Gon pounded into him. He could feel himself getting close, wound up from the battle and Obi-Wan’s body, he felt himself cresting, but was determined to see his pet spoiled with a third orgasm first. 

He took Obi-Wan’s cock in his hand, his padawan wailing, fresh tears springing to his eyes as another sensitive part of his body was stimulated, Qui-Gon stroking in a firm grip in time with his hard, deep thrusts. Obi-wan whined something, an attempt at words that was too garbled to understand, sniffling as he rubbed his wet cheeks into Qui-Gon’s skin. 

“You can do it pet, one more for me,” Qui-Gon encouraged, he knew he could get Obi-Wan to come more than three times, but all of these had been in quick succession, no time for his body to recover, driven from one peak of sensitivity right into a higher one, and hs was trembling in Qui-Gon’s hold. “Now pet.” He ordered, and his perfect padawan obeyed, cock shooting out less than before, his come spurting wealy and then drooling copiously from his cock head. 

Qui-Gon growled as Obi-Wan tightened with his orgasm, his ass throbbing as if he was trying to milk Qui-Gon’s cock, gripping him tight. He stroked Obi-Wan through it, until his cock was spent and his padawan was keening, shifting his hold back to Obi-Wan’s thighs, and fuckign into him hard and fast, coming in half a dozen more strokes of his hips, slamming Obi-Wan up harder against the wall as he finally spilled inside his hot little body. 

His climax was intense, so much pent up from his rage and then exhilaration in the fight, from opening his padawan up and fucking into him right here in the corridor. It crashed over him like a great wave, coming deep inside Obi-Wan in long, thick ropes of come. He rocked his hips through it, holding his padawan’s lax body in his arms, rubbing over his skin soothingly until his cock started to soften.

Obi-Wan was gone, he could sense it, in his quietness, how soft his body was, but how tightly his arms and legs were clinging. The way his head was resting on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, mouthing sloppy kisses against his skin. He was about to pull out as gently as he could, when the main door to the ship opened, revealing Xanatos and a number of battle droids, his failed apprentice’s eyes going wide, then his face turning ugly with jealousy as he took in what he could see.

“Get out,” Qui-Gon barked, Xanatos’ thunderous look not changing, but it didn’t matter as the guards hurried to close the doors, locking the young man out, his sour expression away from Obi-Wan in his vulnerable state. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan said, voice far away and confused, he probably hadn’t even processed that the door had open, except for the gentle breeze that had caressed him briefly. 

“Shh pet,” Qui-Gon soothed, stroking his back. Obi-Wan was clinging to him, legs still wrapped around him, Qui-Gon’s cock still buried inside of him, and Qui-Gon apologised as he pulled out carefully, Obi-Wan whimpering, sniffling slightly, eyes a little watery again.

He eased Obi-Wan’s legs down from his waist and onto the floor, which only seemed to upset him further, and Qui-Gon was careful to keep points of contact between them. But he wanted to look at his padawan, and he wasn’t disappointed. He was naked only from the waist down, but his shirts were rumpled, stretched and pulled out of place, revealing flushed skin travelling down from his neck. 

His face was a mess, blood smeared over one cheek, hair in disarray, nerf tail pulled out of it’s tie. His lips were rosy and wet from Qui-Gon’s assault, and his eyes were glassy and searching, looking up at his master’s for reassurance, which Qui-Gon gave with a hand to his cheek, rubbing his thumb over Obi-Wan’s freckles. 

Lower down his body was a feast, Qui-Gon wanted to take a picture of it, so that he would never forget this sight. There were bruises already forming on Obi-Wan’s thighs, in the shape of Qui-Gon’s fingers. His hands had smeared some blood here too, but there was also the come from Obi-Wan’s three orgasms spready around on his pale skin, and sliding down the insides of his thighs, Qui-Gon could see his own come lazily dripping out of his hole. 

“You’re so beautiful, pet,” Qui-Gon praised, and a sleepy smile came to Obi-Wan’s lips from the praise, sucking easily on Qui-Gon’s thumb when he rested it against his plump lower lip. “Can you walk, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, making soothing noises as Obi-Wan shook his head, and sucked more on the tip of his thumb. 

With a little cajoling, having to get Obi-Wan to release his thumb, he gathered his pet back up in his arms, letting him wrapped himself back around Qui-Gon; arms around his neck, legs around his waist, and head pillowed on his shoulder. He carried him down the corridor, ignoring everyone they passed by, though Obi-Wan held a little tighter with every person they passed. 

He had intended to take him back to Qui-Gon’s room, but Obi-Wan’s old, disused one was closer, and his pet seemed a little too vulnerable to be on display in the corridor any longer. He carried him to the ‘fresher, with the large tub, putting an reluctant Obi-Wan back down, and holding him steady as he helped him to wiggle out of the rest of his clothes. 

He quickly sent off a message to one of the protocol droids, instructing it to bring a spread of Obi-Wan’s favourite sweets to his old room, and leave the tray outside the ‘fresher door.

“Now pet, I want you to turn around and bend over for me, hold on to the edge of the tub so you don’t fall, there’s a good boy,” Qui-Gon praised as Obi-Wan did exactly as he was asked, his pert bottom pushed a out, his legs spread a little. 

He got a washcloth and cleaned the blood from his own hands off of Obi-Wan’s Obi-Wan’s ass, spread there as Qui-Gon had held him, before wiping up the come that was dripping down his thighs. Obi-Wan whined, as Qui-Gon checked over his hole, pressing one finger gently inside his gaping hole, pleased when it came back dripping in his own come. 

“I’m going to clean you up before we get in the bath, does that sound good, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, petting Obi-Wan’s lower back. Obi-Wan nodded, making a sweet sound, and Qui-Gon decided not to press for words, worried his pet might not be able to manage them in this moment, which would only make him upset. 

He knelt behind his padawan, and revelled in his broken whimper as Qui-Gon ducked forward and licked at his hole. He loved the way he tasted, and there were few things he enjoyed more than languidly licking his own come out of Obi-Wan’s hungry hole. Despite his pained whimpers, Obi-Wan rocked his ass back against Qui-Gon’s face as he curled his tongue inside him, lapping at him until he had collected all the come he could reach. 

When he was done, Obi-Wan’s spent little cock was still soft, and he was shivering, having to work hard to keep himself from slipping to the floor. Qui-Gon straightened, holding Obi-Wan around the waist and pulling him upright and turning him, so that he could kiss him deeply and push his come into Obi-Wan’s mouth, murmuring praises at his pet’s pleased little moan, swallowing down what he was fed. 

After that, he stripped himself off, and started running a warm bath filled with the bubbles and salts he had bought for Obi-Wan before he moved out of this room. While it was running, he coaxed a shivering Obi-wan into the ‘fresher with him, washing the blood, sweat, gel and come off of their skin, until they were clean enough not to dirty the water of the bath.

He helped Obi-Wan, still making soft little noises rather than words, into the bath first, after checking it was a nice, warm temperature that would make his skin rosy pink, and take away that shiver. He kissed Obi-Wan’s forehead, then his nose as he sat in the bath, before leaving him for just a few moments to open the door and retrieve the tray of confectionery for the floor, resting it beside the bath. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan said, voice slow and unsure, hands reaching out for Qui-Gon. 

“Yes pet?” Qui-Gon asked, coaxing him to try and speak more, to help gradually pull him back from this headspace. He knew his pet wanted him to get in the bath too, but wondered how he would phrase it, and from the way Obi-Wan was chewing at his lip, he didn’t know either. Qui-Gon left it a few more moments, but when his pet’s green eyes started growing wide and taking on a distressed edge, he spoke again. “Would you like me to get in with you?” he asked, and Obi-Wan nodded. “Can you use your words yet pet?”

“Please,” Obi-Wan managed, struggling with some of the sounds, but he smiled when Qui-Gon nudged him forward, so that he could slip into the bath behind his padawan, and gather him back in his arms. 

The water was warm, and Obi-Wan dozed against Qui-Gon’s chest for a little while, Qui-Gon stroking hands over his skin as the bubbles in the bath slowly rescinded and Obi-Wan’s sensitive skin began to prune.he woke Obi-Wan up gently, and his padawan hummed happily as Qui-Gon rubbed soap into his body with his hands, avoiding his cock and bottom, sensing his padawan was still sensitive. 

He was glad, when Obi-Wan turned in the water, looking up at Qui-Gon with eyes that were a bit brighter, and less glassy and initiated a deep kiss, both of them sinking into it and sinking deeper into the warm, soothing bath water as it went on for long minutes. Qui-Gon had never before been able to appreciate - or perhaps, he had never before enjoyed it at all - the simple act of kissing, just because he wanted to, and not as a necessary - although in the past he had often skipped it altogether - step in the build up to something more carnal. But half submerged in warm water with his padawan, he could have stayed there forever. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan said, voice a little more full, words more confident than before.

“Yes pet,” Qui-Gon replied, stroking his hands down Obi-Wan’s sides. 

“May I wash your hair?” Obi-Wan asked, and Qui-Gon smiled softly, rearranging them in the water so that his padawan could reach, and enjoying the simply pleasures of someone else's' hands washing his hair. 

His hair was long, and Obi-Wan’s hands were careful not to tangle it, running his fingers through it like a comb when he was done, the quiet intimacy of the act making Qui-Gon ache in ways he was not used to, had perhaps never experienced before. That he didn’t dare put a name to, lest the other sith sniff out a weakness they could use against him. 

He turned when Obi-Wan was done, kissing him soundly on the lips. The water was almost entirely clear of bubbles, and he was about to suggest they dry off, when he noticed that Obi-Wan seemed alert again, but his expression was conflicted, his brow drawn and mouth downturned

“Are you alright, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, frowning. 

“It’s just. I killed people, in the palace. Just guards, doing their job.”

“Yes, you did, and if you hadn’t I would be dead. They were attacking us,” Qui-Gon replied, he might have survived without his padawan’s intervention, but it had certainly not been a sure thing. 

“We attacked them first.”

“Perhaps, but you know as well as I do, that our alliance with the Hutts was a ticking time bomb anyway, one of us was always going to betray the other.”

“Yes but…”

“But?”

“It is not the jedi way,” Obi-Wan whispered, as if he thought he would be in trouble for saying it. Qui-Gon sighed, and carded his fingers through Obi-Wan’s wet hair. He had hoped that Obi-Wan would have left his dreams of becoming a jedi behind by now, but he had clung to them for years, it was what had given him the hope he needed to drag himself through those wasted days on Bandomeer, with no end in sight. Qui-Gon didn’t like it, but he understood that such a thing would take a long time for Obi-Wan to let go of. 

“I asked you to stay on the ship, why did you come to the palace?” He asked, voice calm and searching, rather than accusational. 

“Because you were in trouble. I - I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yes, you ran to help your allies in a fight, even at the risk of your own safety. I trained as a jedi, pet, and  _ that _ , is very much the jedi way. The fight itself was not one a normal jedi would find themselves embroiled in, but your actions would have made any master proud.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Although, that does not mean I am supportive of you running into danger so recklessly.”

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said, though he didn’t sound like he meant it in the least. 

“Imp,” Qui-Gon replied, far too fondly. “But you must promise me that you would be more careful with yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because, my beautiful little padawan, if anything were to happen to you, I would burn entire  _ planets _ down. And that would not be a very jedi-ly thing to cause, would it?” Qui-Gon said, kissing away the little ‘o’ of shock, his padawan’s mouth fell into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what makes kinky sex even better? that sweet sweet aftercare, amirite!! tune in next time for their exhibitionism getting next level, rip every other poor soul on their ship, and Maul starts sniffing around (>.<)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Clears throat* WOAHH WE'RE HALFWAY THEREEEE, WOAHH WE'RE LIVING ON (avarus being whipped) A PRAYER
> 
> So many kind words from so many of you!! I die!! I am revived!! I die again!!
> 
> Another porny gift of: Exhibitionism!! Cockwarming!! Subspace!! All the good shit, enjoy it because chappies 18 and 19 dare to dream of plot <3

The operation to supplant the Hutts had gone smoothly, with all of the other sith and Qui-gon’s various agents managing to pull of their parts of the coup - if not without a hitch, then at least well enough that eventually they succeeded. It had left his master in an excellent mood, right up until the moment Darth Maul had entered the compound on Olserra, already calling in the return of his favour. 

He hadn’t told them anything yet, which had led to his master grinding his teeth on more than one occasion, had simply boarded their ship, and said he required Qui-Gon’s assistance in the Arkanis sector. When he had refused to elaborate, Qui-Gon had told him as it wasn’t urgent, it could wait the few days he needed to to finish up business with he various parties that had shown an interest in Darth Avarus’ new control of the gambling dens of the outer rim. 

Although, Obi-Wan had a suspicion that the real reason his master was making Darth Maul wait, was because Obi-Wan had expressed and interest in seeing the sunrise in two days’ time, when it was set to pass behind one of the planets moons just as it rose, which the locals claimed was not only beautiful, but also cleansing to experience. 

“Something bothering you, pet?” His master asked, fastening his hair as Obi-wan gilded in the doorway. “I am sorry I cannot train with you today, these talks are dragging on far longer than necessary, the jedi high council agreed on things faster than this parade of buffoons.”

“But they’re buffoons you need?”

“For now,” Qui-Gon replied, voice carrying that dangerous edge that sent a thrill from the top of Obi-Wan’s spine, all the way down to his toes. 

“I was wondering…” Obi-Wan started, shuffling nervously, knowing he was likely about to be told no.

“Yes, pet?” Qui-Gon nudged, standing up and cupping Obi-Wan’s chin, pressing his thumb against Obi-Wan’s lower lip, freeing it from the way his teeth were worrying at it. Obi-Wan resisted the almost overwhelming desire to wrap his lips around that thumb. 

“I was wondering if I could maybe come with you today, to the meeting?”

“I promise you they aren’t very interesting. It is mainly arguments over what percentage of the house take I will be claiming, and the leeches offering me various other things to try and reduce the number. I will take what they offer, of course, but my cut will also remain the same. It takes them a tediously long time to realise that they have very little to bargain with. Too used to getting everything they want, by simply throwing money at it.”

“I know, I’m just interested,” Obi-Wan said, and he was, to a certain degree, but mainly he had woken up that morning with an embarrassing desire for closeness, which he had no doubt was a layover from the night before, when his master had fucked him for nearly an hour edging the both of them before he finally took the ring off Obi-Wan’s cock and let him come. 

“Alright pet, but I promise you’ll be bored,” Qui-Gon replied, chuckling at Obi-Wan’s open shock at being permitted into the room, a kiss being pressed to his slackened mouth. 

Obi-Wan smiled, glad he was going to be able to spend the day with his master when he had woken up sure that he was going to be alone until dinner, if not longer. Obi-wan made sure his robes were in good order, smoothing out the fabric and checking that his nerf tail was neat while his master leaned in the doorway, sending an amused expression his way.

He could smirk all he liked, Qui-Gon always managed to look flawless, like raw power encased in sharp black suits, but Obi-Wan didn’t share that skill, always looked just a little unkempt, if he didn’t keep a close eye on himself. And his master’s face was so handsome, striking, the kind that demanded to be taken seriously; whereas Obi-Wan’s face still carried a little baby fat, and the smattering of faint freckles over his cheeks made him look even younger. The last thing he wanted was to make Qui-Gon seem somehow lesser, just by having Obi-Wan with him. 

His master eventually got bored of watching him fiddle with every little hair on his head, trying to force them into some kind of order, and came up behind Obi-Wan, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist, kissing his neck. 

“Hey!” Obi-Wan protested, when his master pulled back and ran his hands through Obi-wan’s wavy hair, completely messing up what he had been trying to do 

“Perfect,” Qui-Gon praised, dropping another kiss to the crown of Obi-Wan’s head. “Now come along pet, we’re going to be late.” He turned and strode out the room, Obi-Wan’s shorter legs racing to keep up as he worried he had managed to mess up before he was even in the room. 

His master chuckled at his haste, circling one large hand around Obi-Wan’s wrist - which always felt so small and delicate in that heavy grip - and slowing him down.

“Relax pet, I’m the only one who is allowed to be late.”

“I just wish you’d told me,” Obi-Wan grumbled, feeling a silly, needless frisson of anxiety at having caused it.

“I was having too much fun watching you,” his master replied, making him red with a blush right as he opened the door to the room, one of the rooms that had been closed to Obi-Wan before this moment. 

There was a sizable table in the room, though it wasn’t busy, the seats around it spread out well. There were a number of people Obi-Wan didn’t recognise at all, the crooked casino and gambling den owners of the rim, he assumed, ten of them in total, and then also gathered, a disinterested looking Maul, and Xanatos, who scowled as soon as he saw Obi-Wan enter with Qui-Gon. 

There was a larger seat at the head of the table, clearly intended for Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan noticed with a hint of trepidation, that there was no chair for him. His master must have no had time to send ahead to get a chair placed for him, and he worried for a second, not wanting to have the attention ff all these unkind people on him while he shuffled around finding a chair and carrying it over. His master didn’t seem to register the problem, striding over to his seat, tugging Obi-Wan along to follow.

“Master,” he asked hesitantly, quietly, as his master sat down, standing close by his chair. “Where should I sit?”

“Well pet, I can have a droid fetch you a chair if you like,” Qui-Gon said, voice low and only for Obi-Wan’s ears. “Or you can sit right here in my lap,” he offered, and Obi-Wan felt his face flush with embarrassment and his chest ache with a desire to do just that. But this room was full of people, some of them were even important, another darth sitting just a few chairs away. 

“I wouldn’t be in the way?” Obi-Wan asked nervously, his hands gripping at his tabard to keep his restless hands busy. 

“You are never in the way, pet,” his master replied, before continuing at a low murmur. “Besides I know you didn’t ask to come here because you are interested in gambling dens.”

Obi-Wan turned a little redder, glad for the dimmed lighting in the room, hoping that that might mean it wasn’t immediately obvious to everyone who spared him so much as a glance. He should have known, really, given everything he knew about his master, that he would have already realised that what Obi-Wan wanted was closeness, right now. 

With a steadying breath to bolster some of his nerves at looking silly and needy in front of the others, Obi-Wan let himself be guided into his master’s lap. He was much smaller than his master, but he was still an adult, and had to arrange himself carefully so that his master could still see everyone else at the table. He sat across his lap, Obi-Wan’s body side-on to the table but he didn’t look at it at all, resting his head on his master’s shoulder and feeling warm as one of Qui-Gon’s arms came around his back, bracing him, his hands resting on Obi-Wan’s waist. 

Obi-Wan was tense for the first few minutes as his master began the meeting, sure that at any moment, someone was going to challenge his presence here, say something unkind, or convince his master to banish him from the room. But time passed, and no one said anything, and Obi-Wan realised, that in this compound, no one questioned Avarus. 

As his tension abated and he sighed, sinking into his master’s hold and the feeling of the large hand on his waist, Obi-Wan absently listened to what was being said, just as interested in the cadence of his master’s voice - hard and unbending, nothing like it was when his master spoke with him - as he was the words being said. 

His master was right, everything being said was boring, if necessary to running a gambling operation that spread across an entire rim. The assembled den and casino owners worked hard to not look as though they were arguing as they bartered for better rates, chafed against the rules Darth Avarus was laying down for them, about takes and profits and rigged games. 

He was blacklisting players as well, and stationing one of his more trusted lieutenants at each of the larger establishments, to make sure no one was tempted to try and avoid giving him his dues. The ones that wouldn’t get a permanent overseer, were promised frequent visits instead.

Listening to them offering his master all manner of gifts was almost amusing, Obi-Wan smiling against his master’s chest as they offering him money, weapons, conscripts, advanced droids, servants and slaves. Anything to try and convince his master to take a slightly smaller cut, as if they wouldn’t be making millions of credits anyway. 

His master rejected them all with a disinterested expression, he had no need of money, if they believed he didn’t already have access to the latest battle and astro droids then they were fools, he had plenty of servants and no use for household slaves. He had caches full of weapons all over the outer rim, and if he needed conscripts, he would _take_ them. 

His tone and manner only changed, when he was offered a harem of pleasure slaves, the man offering them claiming that they were the ‘best in the galaxy’, offering his master as many as he wanted to satisfying his appetites, and Obi-Wan stilled, shivered when he felt his master’s hand tighten on his waist. 

“I promise you, Martari, no harem has anything I am interested in,” his master said, voice low and possessive as he held Obi-Wan tighter, a second large hand falling down to spread over Obi-Wan’s knee. “Isn’t that right, padawan,” he said to Obi-Wan.

He nodded his head, still hiding his face in his master’s chest until Qui-Gon’s hand moved from his waist to his neck, pulled him back far enough to claim Obi-Wan’s mouth in a possessive kiss. It was so consuming, Obi-Wan almost felt like the rest of the room simply melted away into nothing as his master kissed him, as much a claim as a brand against his skin would be. 

His tongue swept through Obi-Wan’s mouth and his teeth nipped and tugged at his lower lip, Obi-Wan whimpering by the time his master pulled away and resumed his meeting. 

“Suggest such a thing again, and I will take it as a personal insult to my padawan,” he said in a voice so stern is made Obi-Wan shiver and his cock, which had gotten a little hard during their kiss throb with need. There were murmured apologies, and Oi-Wan remembered with burning cheeks that he and his master were not alone in the room, and tried to turn his body towards his master more, to try and stop anyone noticing how stiff is little cock had become. 

He had hoped it would go away fairly quickly, but with the way his master was holding him in his lap, the hands on his skin and his master’s voice so commanding and strict, his body remained excited as the meeting dragged on. 

“Pet,” his master murmured at lunch, when some droids came into the room bearing trays of food. “Do you need to go back to your room and spend some time with your pillow, hmm?” He teased, voice too low for anyone else to hear, but his hand brazenly fell of Obi-Wan’s groin, slipping under his pants and squeezing his stiff cock. 

“M-master!” Obi-Wan squeaked, face flaming when he realised that he had drawn attention to them both, his master’s hand in his pants, stroking him a couple of times, shame fizzing through him as the knowledge of eyes on him only made his little cock harder. 

“I would come with you, but as you can see, I am busy here,” his master said, Obi-Wan both relieved and bereft as he removed his hand from Obi-Wan’s pants.

“N-no. I want to stay with you,” Obi-Wan muttered, curling closer, not wanting to look out at the room. He felt needy for touch, any kind, and while he wanted to come, he didn’t feel urgent with it, and would rather stay with his master. Besides what he really wanted was to suck on his master’s big cock, head only sinking more into a desire to do that as he sat here listening to his stern voice.

“Such a sweet little padawan,” his master praised, reaching for the plate of fruits, crackers and cheese that had been set before him. His master ate his lunch with those assembled not engaging in much of the inane conversation, no matter how desperately Xanatos attempted to draw him into it, and when he was done with his food, he began feeding Obi-Wan his. 

He found it remarkably easy to do, despite their spectators and accepted the bites of food his master pressed against his lips easily, licking the juice from the fruit and crumbs from the crackers off of his master’s fingers after each bite. It force him to sit up a little straighter, occasionally catch glimpses of those gathered around the table. 

Most of them weren’t looking at him, Xanatos, most pointedly, was digging his knife into the wood of the table with a scowl, while a smattering of others simply avoided looking at him. But then there were the more daring, or more curious ones, who were watching him with interest, tracking the way he took the bites of food from his master’s hand, the way he was cradled so comfortably in his lap. Obi-Wan didn’t know what they were thinking, didn’t particularly want to know. 

Maul was watching him the most closely, which settled uneasily in Obi-Wan’s gut but was quickly eased again by his master’s hand petting his wasit, how easy it was to sink into his broad chest. His master praised him, as he sucked on his fingers, done with his food and under the guise of cleaning them off, voice a low rumble as he indulged Obi-Wan, and let him suckle for a little while, before pulling his fingers free and kissing the crown of Obi-Wan’s head, letting him settle back in properly. 

Obi-Wan had never felt desired like this before, cherished and pampered where anyone was free to see it, his master’s large hands possessive and calming on his body. 

The meeting didn’t end until dinner time, Obi-Wan having dozed off in his master’s arms on more than one occasion throughout the afternoon, conversation skipping like a stone skimming along the water. He was fidgety when he was awake, Qui-Gon’s hand tightening on his waist in warning and Obi-Wan tried to control himself. He felt hot, his cock had been half hard for most of the day and the slow build of arousal at being kept warm and safe in his master’s arms all day had him almost desperate in his desire to have his master’s cock in his mouth. His mind wandered to fantasies that made him blush red, of slipping to the floor right then and there and pleading with his master to let him. 

When their visitors finally retired to the dining hall for dinner, Obi-Wan squirmed around, moving to straddle his master so that he could draw him into a needy kiss, embarrassing himself with demanding little noises that he seemed unable to stop. His master chuckled and two large hands on his hips stopped him from rocking his cock into his master’s firm stomach. 

“Are you a little desperate, pet?”

“Want you in my mouth,” Obi-Wan whined, struggling with the fastenings on his master’s pants, his hands so uncoordinated. 

“Oh pet, all you had to do was ask,” his master purred, helping Obi-Wan ease down onto his knees and undoing his pants. 

“I did!” Obi-Wan pouted. “The others only just left.” His master stroked his hair as Obi-Wan finally got his cock free of his underwear, and wrapped his lips around the head, sighing as soon as his master was in his mouth. 

“You could have asked whenever you liked, I would have let you, you could have sunk to your knees and warmed my cock all through the meeting. Would you have liked that?” His master purred, and Obi-Wan felt a tremor go through him, his master telling him he could have exactly what he fantasised about, if he wanted. Obi-Wan suckled on the head of his cock a few times, enjoying feeling of his master thickening and getting hard in his mouth, before pulling off. 

“But there were people here,” he said hesitantly, biting at his lip, looking up at his master with wide eyes. 

“Yes pet, there were.”

“That’s naughty,” Obi-Wan whispered, feeling shy as he popped his master’s fat cock back in his mouth and sucked. His master was stroking his hair and rubbing a thumb over his cheek, and Obi-Wan hummed in contentment. 

“Only a little. This is my ship, I can allow whatever I like, and if my perfect little padawan would like to warm my cock while I’m in a meeting, then I am happy to let him,” Qui-Gon replied, voice getting heavier with arousal as Obi-Wan sucked on him, the musky taste of his master filling up his mouth. 

“It would be okay?” Obi-Wan asked nervously, he wanted it, and his little cock was aching in his pants, from both the feeling of sucking on his master, and thinking about what his master was offering. 

“Yes pet, very much so. I have another meeting tomorrow, I could have a little cushion placed at the foot of my chair so you don’t hurt your knees, and you could sit in my lap just like you did today, for as long as you liked. And if you started to feel needy for my cock, you would only have to ask me, and you could have it right then. You wouldn’t need to wait, your little cock aches, doesn’t it, because you had to wait today.”

“Yes, master,” Obi-Wan admitted, pulling off of his master’s cock and lapping at his head and shaft while he spoke.

“I know you like to warm me, pet, that given your way you would just keep me in your hot mouth for hours at a time, and you could. So would you like to do that tomorrow, pet?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan nodded a little, cheeks red as he licked at his master’s cock.

“Yes please,” he said, his master smiling at him using words when he clearly hadn’t expected it. 

“Such a good boy,” he praised, guiding Obi-Wan easily back onto his cock.

His master took control then with a hand in Obi-Wan’s hair, moving him up and down his cock in deeper and faster movements. Obi-Wan was well practiced in taking his master’s entire cock in his mouth now, the feeling of it stretching his throat and cutting off his air one of his favourite sensations. And his master loved that he didn’t have to be so gentle with him now, no longer worried about thrusting too hard and making him take too much, as Obi-Wan dutifully swallowed around him and breathed steadily through his nose. 

His master must have been a wound up from having Obi-Wan in his lap all day too, because usually he let Obi-Wan suckle on him for a little longer before starting to guide Obi-Wan’s head into bobbing deeper and faster. Obi_Wan hummed happily as his master took control, loving the way his hands felt pulling at his hair, sending little sparks down the entire length of Obi-Wan’s body. 

He sucked as tightly as he could as Qui-Gon dragged his head up, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as his master fucked into his throat, grip tightening in Obi-Wan’s hair. Obi-Wan tried to keep his head from getting too hazy, so that he could remember to press his tongue against the underside of his master’s cock and used one of his hands to play with his master’s heavy balls. 

He whined around his mouthful, trying to move his other hand from Qui-Gon’s knee so that he could rub at his hard cock, desperate to come, but he wasn’t good at balancing like this. But his master was perceptive, even when his yellow eyes were almost black with arousal, and his cock deep in Obi-Wan’s mouth, and his master moved one of his legs, planting his shin between Obi-Wan’s legs, so that he could press his hard cock against it. 

“Yes, just like that,” his master purred with a strained voice. “Rut against my leg like the desperate little pet you are.”

Obi-Wan moaned at the words, the commanding voice that send shivers down his spine, and helplessly rutted into his master’s leg, pushing his cock against him and gasping as he felt himself close already, so wound up from the day. His hips were already erratic and desperate, and were it not for the hand gripping his hair and guiding the movement of his head, he would have lost his rhythm there too. 

“Such a good boy. I want you to dirty up your nice clothes pet, come, now,” his master order, and Obi-Wan wailed around his mouthful, hips stuttering wildly as he humped into his master’s leg, his cock spilling and making his underwear warm and sticky with his release. 

He humped into his master's leg until every little aftershock had rung through him, still happily sucking at the cock in his mouth when his master pulled him off with a grunt. Obi-Wan whined at the loss, even though his master was only moving to stand, so that he could better thrust into Obi-Wan’s hungry mouth, burying himself with every roll of his hips deep in Obi-Wan’s throat as Obi-Wan moaned around him. 

His master’s cock stretched his lips so widely that he couldn’t help but drool, a mixture of spit and his master’s precome dribbling down his chin as his master fucked his face with sharp, deep thrusts. He knew his master was close to coming when he felt the hand in his hair hold him tighter, his thrusts graining speed and loosing rhythm and Obi-Wan sucked harder at his master’s cock, until finally he felt it thicken a little more, and his master groaned out Obi-Wan’s name as Obi-Wan drank down his come. 

“So good,” his master praised as his cock began to soften, indulging Obi-Wan and letting him lap his cock until it was soft and clean before tucking himself back into his pants. 

He carried Obi-Wan back to their room and ordered their dinner to be had in private, much to Obi-Wan’s relief, he wanted his master to himself for a little while. 

Obi-Wan was nervous when the next morning rolled around, he’d been restless throughout the night thinking about the next day, if he really was allowed to spend the meeting suckling on his master’s cock, or if that was just something he had said to tease Obi-Wan, and to make him even more desperate yesterday. But when his master asked him if he would like to come to the meeting again, Obi-Wan nodded, and blushed heavily when his master went into his living area, and came back with a soft, deep red cushion that had been strewn on the couch. 

He seemed to catch Obi-Wan’s anxiety, as he caught Obi-wan’s hand in his own, and let him cling on as they walked through the corridors. Obi-Wan felt self-conscious about the obvious cushion, as if everyone they bypassed would know what it was for. 

They were the first to the room today, and Obi-Wan was relieved, no one able to see his master set the cushion down by his feet before inviting Obi-Wan back into his lap. He felt shy just from the insinuation of what he was allowed to do today if he wanted, and trying to burrow into his master’s space. 

“Hush pet,” his master soothed, rubbing a hand down Obi-Wan’s back. “It is only there if you desire it, you can stay in my lap if you prefer,” he murmured, kissing Obi-Wan forehead, a moment of comfort before the various intensely boring and predictable guests filed into the room and the conversations began again. 

His master hoped that this would be the last day of discussions, determined to make it so and remove these tedious people from his premises. But that didn’t mean that the discussions today would be any faster than they had been the day before, and Obi-Wan once again sat through hours of boring discussions where the dealers failed to recognise - or accept - a situation in which they had no power. 

His master fed him lunch by hand again, his head getting fuzzy from his master feeding him little pieces of fruit while Obi-Wan was safely ensconced in his lap, encouraging Obi-Wan to suck on his fingers between bites while the people gathered in the room both watched and looked away in equal measure.

He had been fidgety all morning, he felt so wanted, so _claimed_ , when he was in his master’s lap like this, that it always left him feeling warm with comfort and arousal, his little cock not quite soft for the entirety of the morning. It only got worse as more time passed, he felt hyper aware of his master’s cock - big enough to be felt against his bottom even when his master was completely soft - underneath him, and the hands on his waist and leg seemed even bigger than usual, even when he knew they were not. 

As his squirming continued and grew steadily worse, his master squeezed him in warning, his meaning clear enough to make him blush; if Obi-Wan needed something, he needed to ask for it. He managed to last another hour, before he gave in, his little cock hard and his head slipping enough that he wanted his master in his mouth.

“Master?” Obi-Wan whispered softly while Xanatos was leading the conversation for a brief moment, and he didn’t feel like he was interrupting his master too much. 

“Yes, pet?”

“Can I…?”

“Can you what, pet?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan squirmed, face going red, some of the people around the table had noticed him speaking, when he was usually as quiet as a mouse. 

“Can I please suck on your cock master?” He asked, biting at his lip as shame made his cock even hearder. 

“Of course pet, but remember, you’re only allowed to warm me in that hungry little mouth of yours. If you get greedy for my come instead I will take you over my knee and spank you right here in front of everyone, am I clear?” His master asked, hsi voice was quiet, but not so quiet it was impossible to hear, and Obi-Wan’s cheeks flamed as he nodded. “Good boy,” his master praised. 

He helped Obi-Wan down from his lap, the conversation at the table gone silent in a way that was almost deafening and had Obi-Wan feeling self-conscious, gnawing on his lip nervously, but he knew he would feel better as soon as he had his master in his mouth and everything else slipped away, and here under the table, he was hidden from everyone else's view anyway.

His master unfastened himself and pulled his large cock out of his pants, guiding Obi-Wan’s desperate mouth onto his cock. Obi-Wan sighed as soon as he had it, suckling lightly at the mostly soft cock in his mouth as his master returned to the meeting, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Obi-Wan tuned out of the conversation, only the comforting timbre of his master’s voice reaching him, not the shape of individual words. His master gave his hair a warning squeeze when he sucked a little too hard on his cock, making it thicken in his mouth, and Obi-Wan remembered that he was only supposed to be keeping his master warm. 

He settled into it easily, doing what he often tried to get his master to let him to in the mornings. He pillowed his head on his master’s thigh and let himself be filled up by the feeling of his master’s cock resting in his mouth, allowed only to hold him there, and suckle gently. He felt better already, mind drifting away as he shut his eyes, entirely comfortable resting between his master’s legs and with his knees on the soft cushion his master had collected for him. 

Time felt strange, as if Obi-Wan was disconnected from it and it couldn’t hold him down; the only thing keeping him from floating away was all the points of contact between himself and his master. After a little while, his master grew soft in his mouth, and Obi-Wan liked that too, found everything about what they were doing almost overwhelming in how comforting it was.

He noticed, in one of his more present moments, that he was making soft little contented noises, hums and sighs, and wondered if he should be quiet, his master was still trying to have a meeting after all. But his master’s hand was stroking through his hair, and Obi-Wan figured that if he needed to be quiet his master would tell him, and closed his eyes again. 

He only stirred again, when his master started cupping his cheek, rubbing the sensitive skin there with his thumb as he spoke to the room. Obi-Wan fought through the haziness in his mind to try and jumbled together the words, picking out enough to know that his master was close to dismissing them. His knees ached badly, and he wondered if he’d been down here for hours, without really realising it. 

He whined happily, when his master’s hand nudged at his head, encouraging him to bob his head, take more of his cock into his mouth and start sucking on his master's rapidly hardening cock with more intent. His own cock got hard fast, never really having been completely soft since lunchtime, and he went from relaxed and sleepy to needy and desperate in a matter of seconds. 

He vaguely heard his master dismiss the room before being hauled up from the floor by strong, possessive hands before his master’s guests had even left the table. He was drawn into a long, deep kiss, his master fucking his tongue into Obi-Wan’s swollen, red mouth. 

“You were so perfect pet,” his master growled, turning Obi-Wan around and bending him over the table. 

“M-master?” Obi-Wan asked, he had never been taken like this by his master, and half the rooms occupants hadn’t even completely vacated their chairs yet, making Obi-Wan close his eyes and whimper, cock jerking. 

“Can I fuck you like this pet? I love seeing your beautiful face, but you’re perfect like this as well, your pretty little bottom on display for me,” his master growled, tugging down Obi-Wan’s clothes so that he could reach his bottom. Obi-Wan heard the click of a bottle of slick, and realised his master must have brought it with him that morning. “I can get so deep like this, pet, I can fuck you harder, would you like that?”

“Y-yes,” Obi-Wan answered, feeling hot under all of his clothes, just thinking about the way he must look, his ass bare and presented for his master, his cock leaking everywhere and his toes barely reaching the floor. 

“Such a perfect pet,” his master praised, kissing the back of Obi-Wan’s neck as he curled himself possessively over Obi-Wan’s back. 

The door wasn’t even closed by the time Qui-Gon’s slick fingers breached his hole, Obi-Wan catching a glimpse of Maul pausing and watching Obi-Wan for a moment, before his eyes rolled back as his master rubbed over his prostate, and he heard the door slide closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was horny, not that we should still be surprised by that. I hope you enjoyed!! You comments are better than cake!! Tune in next time (hopefully tomorrow!) for Drama!! How many exclamation marks can I fit into my author's notes!!!???


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your C O M M E N T S they're better than air tbh, I would live without literal air before I gave them up, thank each and every one of you that soothe my writing insecurities better than quigs soothes Obi-Wan <3
> 
> Warning fooooor; attempted sexual assault (not between qui and obi, obvs)

As it turned out, what Darth Maul needed help with was a slave uprising on Iloset, listening to the other sith talk about how he intended to put it down was sickening; to bring the new slaves with him, so that they could watch as he slaughtered the old, as a deterrent to any ideas the new ‘batch’ might develop. 

Obi-Wan’s stomach had turned just listening to it, thoroughly put off from his dinner - dinner that he usually was able to enjoy privately with his master, not with another sith sitting at the table opposite him. He had ended up just pushing his food around his plate by the time Maul was done talking. 

His master hadn’t wanted Maul to join them, in fact any time the other sith was with them, his master carried an air of irritation that Obi-Wan found it difficult to soothe away. It was strange to see Qui-Gon like this, usually so in control of a situation, commanding, not putting up with anything that wasn’t to his exacting tastes and standards. But it was different with another sith, Obi-Wan had no idea what the sith hierarchy was beyond Sidious sitting crooked and old above them all. 

For all he knew, Maul might outrank his master, and that was why he was having to put up with the other man. Or there was no rank among the other darths, and they were simply expected to remain marginally civilised towards one another, or face the wrath of their emperor. Obi-Wan had no idea, but he did know that as a darth, Maul was no simple pawn easily dismissed. But thankfully, that did not mean his master agreed with him. 

“No, that is a tremendous waste of resources,” his master said, Maul’s face turning from gleeful to glower in a matter of moments, pausing in slicing his steak. “You will execute the leaders, no more, there is no reason why the others can’t be cowed back into submission and return to their work. And it will save us a tremendous amount of money.”

“Be careful of that bleeding heart Avarus, we all know you don’t like slaves,” Maul mocked, voice filled with scorn. 

“No, I don’t like slavery, all you are doing is breeding an entire class of people predisposed to hate and scheme against us,” his master replied calmly, not rising to the bait. Obi-Wan knew, from conversations with his master, that that was not the only reason he didn’t like slavery, even as a sith, something about it chafed at his master. “But that being said, I will not allow us to look weak, and I will help you put down this rebellion, but we are going to do it _my_ way.”

“This is not your jurisdiction,” Maul growled, growing annoyed now, his presence in the force taking on a dangerous edge that made Obi-Wan want to flee the room. 

“It became mine when you asked for my help. You can do it my way, or you can do it alone.”

“It would be perfectly easy to go to one of the others, I imagine Opress or Ventress would be more than happy to see things from my perspective.”

“Then by all means go to them. But the last I heard, Opress is dealing with his own organisational problems, and Ventress has gone dark while she hunts that republic chancellor. You’re welcome to ask Dooku, of course,” his master added with a cruel smile. “But we both know he would take over your operation entirely, giving half the chance. 

“So in fact, I would wager I was your only real option. I have the resources to help you, and I have no interest in the distasteful practice that you inist needs to be part of the empire,” his master finished, and maul looked as though one of the veins in his forehead was going to blow. 

Obi-Wan sat perfectly still, nervous to even be in the room and wishing his master had left him in their chambers, feeling the force swimming with dark energy; cool, steady and unyielding from his master; wild and raging from Maul across the table. It made the room almost suffocating. 

He jumped, calmed by a large hand on his knee, when his master pressed a bite of his dinner to his lips, apparently having noticed that he had stopped eating, Obi-Wan accepted it on reflex, perfectly trained to do so by now. Maul’s eyes narrowed further, as his master refused to react to the other sith’s anger. 

“So what will it be?”

“I suppose there is some merit, to not losing the merchandise,” the other sith grit out, surprising Obi-Wan with his acquiescence. 

Obi-Wan didn’t even fully understand why Maul needed his master’s help, Qui-Gon would be able to put down an uprising without any assistance, his reach seemed to have no limit in the outer rim, and as he was slowly discovering the size of his master’s branch of the organisation, he would have no shortage of resources either. 

“Very good. What happened to their chips anyway,” Qui-Gon asked, ignoring the roiling force presence the other sith was giving off, undermining him in every way, as if he couldn’t be less of a threat to his master. 

“To save money we were fitting most of them with fakes. Only ten percent had the real ones.”

“Cutting corners never leads to profit,” his master scolded, and Obi-Wan both wished his master would stop antagonising the other sith for how unsettled it made the room, and was getting increasingly mesmerised by his master’s unbending control. 

“Sacrifices had to be made. It is not as though _you_ would have granted me the money for slave chips, is it?” Maul hissed, clearly trying to reign in his anger, not matter how equal they might be in the hierarchy of the sith, in this moment, Maul needed Qui-Gon, and was trying to control himself. 

The difference between the other sith and his master was stark to Obi-Wan, there in the dining hall. Since he had gone to Qui-Gon’s side, he had believed there was nothing remotely jedi-like about him, certainly his master new the techniques and his knowledge alone was proof he had been raised in the temple. But as for the rest of him, from his yellow eyes to his inked arms, Obi-Wan had only seen a sith. 

Now though, in immediate comparison to another sith, Obi-Wan could see how calm he was, how measured, how good his master was at controlling his emotions, just like a jedi. The only real difference being that instead of releasing them, his master harnessed them, and used them to benefit himself. 

“Be that as it may, you made sacrifices, and now one of the more clever ones has figured it out,” his master replied, and Obi-Wan was half convinced he could hear Maul grinding his teeth from all the way other here. 

“You sound as though you blame me for this uprising.”

“Well I certainly don’t blame a living thing from trying to escape it’s servitude, you should have foreseen this, and you should have guarded against it. Lives could have been spared.”

“More to the point, profit could have been saved,” Maul replied, a challenge in his eyes that his master pointedly ignored. 

“Are you still able to track them via the chips, at least. Or did you place complete fakes in 90% of the slaves?”

“We can track them, though many have dug out the chips.”

“Many? But not all?”

“We don’t have a regulation on where the chip has to be placed. My assumption is that in the slaves who have not removed their chips, it is sitting in a more vulnerable place. There are enough of those that we have an idea of where they have made their stronghold.”

“Very well. Before we arrive I will require maps and data on the region, as well as manifests of the people involved in the rebellion outside of the slaves.”

“They did it themselves,” Maul replied, rankling yet again where his anger had only just began to abate. 

“I assure you they did not. Slave rebellions always have help, I am far from the only person in our organisation that finds the entire business abhorrent. Someone helped them, and we need to know who.”

“Very well,” Maul replied, voice so tight Obi-Wan though it was a wonder that the other sith hadn’t snapped. 

“Good, then that is settled. We have a two day long journey, it should be plenty of time for us to settle on a plan to nullify a disorganised uprising,” his master finished, closing the conversation just in time for desert to be served. 

The rest of dinner was tense, enough so that Obi-Wan felt knots of anxiety growing in his stomach. The air was strained at the table, nothing like the relaxed dinners he was used to, and his master had to coax him into every bite he took of the sweet treat placed in front of him, while Obi-Wan’s appetite wilted at the way Maul was looking at him. Predatory and patient. 

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything that evening when his master asked him what was wrong, knowing there was no sense in complaining about the other sith. If his master were able to kick him off his ship, then he would already be gone, and Obi-Wan not liking the way the other man looked at him certainly wasn’t going to change the situation. Maul was clearly just something he was going to have to put up with for a few days. 

His mind did falter over the slaves, and he when his master asked him what was wrong that evening, as he worried over Maul and how unsettled he left the ship, Obi-Wan found it easier to cite them for it instead. 

“It’s just,” he said, fidgeting as his master helped him out of his clothes. “The slaves, can’t we set them free.”

“You know I can’t do that,” his master replied, sounding at least a little regretful. “I have been trying for years to convince the emperor that we do not need to perpetuate such a pratice, yes it breeds loyalty from some, but it also turns away entire systems that might otherwise be brought into the fold, unable to turn a blind eye to that level of wrongness. But he is yet to be convinced. What I can do right now, is limit the bloodshed.”

“And you’ll keep trying to convince the emperor to let you stop it?”

“Yes pet, I believe one day I might be able to turn him around to my way of thinking. We have plans for the future that involve turning many systems to our side, if I pick my moment correctly, I believe he will agree that the practice has become a hindrance.”

“I don’t like it,” Obi-Wan muttered, and his master sighed, guiding Obi-Wan into the ‘fresher with him. “It doesn't feel right, a jedi should stop these things.”

“You are not to do anything foolish when we reach Iloset, pet, I will not have anything happen to you” his master said, words suddenly firm, before gentling. “As for the jedi, they well know about slavery in the rim, but do they do anything to stop it either?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan admitted. 

“Well I do, and they do not. They either have managed to put it from their minds, despite all their moral posturing, or they have accepted that there is nothing they are in a position to do about it. Much like yourself, my little padawan. You must accept that there are some things you cannot change in the moment, and if you really wish to change the way things work, you must find some of that vaulted jedi patience, and wait for the proper moment.”

“Thank you, master,” Obi-Wan replied, finding his master’s words genuinely reassuring as warm water rained down on them both. “I still don’t like it though,” he sighed, worrying at his lip.

“Neither do I, pet, but for now, I must help Maul.”

His master washed Obi-Wan thoroughly, massaging shampoo into his hair until Obi-Wan was almost drowsing against his chest, effectively distracting him from his mounting discomfort at the situation, and the new guests aboard the ship. And it worked for the most part, Obi-Wan feeling more settled when he cuddled against his master’s chest in bed, after being rubbed down with a towel, as if he weren’t perfectly capable of drying himself. 

But still he lay awake for a long while, he had a queer feeling in his gut that felt as though it came from the force, like a warning. He wondered what it meant, perhaps that if he stood but, and did nothing to help those slaves, then he was truly lost. Though it was like his master said, the jedi knew about slavery in the rim, and they do nothing to stop it either.

They were spending the entirety of the next day flying through the rim, Obi-Wan grinning when his master asked him in the morning if he would like to fly the ship through takeoff, and happily sitting in the cockpit, the usual pilot beside him, and his master leaning in the doorway. 

The pilot was nice to him, in a way that felt almost genuine, though he was clearly nervous at having Darth Avarus watching him instruct his padawan. But still it lifted Obi-Wan’s spirits, until the bad feeling from the night before was all but eradicated as the pilot called him a natural as he guided the ship through takeoff, and into hyperspace.

“Well done pet,” his master smiled when Obi-Wan turned around smiling, in an obvious pursuit of praise that his master thankfully didn’t seem to mind. “Now come with me, we are behind on your day’s katas already.”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan obeyed, hurrying to catch up with his master’s much longer strides. 

“I have a new form to show you,” his master said when they reached the salle, taking off his cloak, and needlessly helping Obi-Wan with his. 

“I thought you said we’d done them all,” Obi-Wan replied, he remembered because his master had been so pleased with him, praising him intensely a week ago, when Obi-Wan had attained the last form.

“All of the official ones, yes, but does that mean you should stop learning new things? That you should stop challenging yourself in training?”

“No, sorry master,” Obi-Wan replied, looking at his feet and trying not to shuffle. His master laid a hand on his cheek and tilted his head back up to look into his master’s intoxicating yellow eyes. 

“Relax pet, you are doing wonderfully.”

“So it’s an unofficial kata?” Obi-Wan asked, wondering what that might mean exactly as his master took stripped of his shirts, leaving his broad chest and tattoos on full display, as he preferred when he joined Obi-Wan for his katas. 

“Yes. It is one that I created myself,” his master explained guiding Obi-Wan out into the middle of the room. “Begin in ragana pose, yes just like that,” his master said as his large hands helped Obi-Wan to spread his legs so that his stance was wide, and reach out with both his arms. 

“When did you make it?” Obi-Wan asked, curiosity piqued as he held the first pose. 

“I began work on it when you completed all of the other forms.”

“You made it for me?” Obi-Wan asked, a gentle blush tinting his cheeks. 

“Yes pet, I thought it would be nice, if you had one which complimented the way you like to move better,” he said, before adding with a leer. “You are very flexible, padawan.” 

“Thank you master,” Obi-Wan mumbled, the sweet blush that had been on his cheeks intensifying, and only getting worse as his master stood behind him and took hold of his arms, guiding his body through the motions of the kata that he had made for Obi-Wan. 

It was beautiful, and Obi-Wan flowed through the challenging movements like water, proud of his own ability, at how well he was achieving each stretch and pose, every bit of praise from his master spurring him on to reach for the next, even as his muscles began to ache. It was a kata that had undoubtedly been made for him, complimenting every one of his strengths and making him feel powerful and beautiful as he performed it. 

“What’s it called?” Obi-Wan asked breathlessly when he was finished, glad when his master didn’t step away from his body, staying close, inviting Obi-Wan into his space. 

“Hmm, I think I shall call it, ‘Tilara Kimara’,” his master replied, the different language rolling off his tongue beautifully.

“What language is that, what does it mean?” Obi-Wan asked, not understanding the language, his master smiling at his eagerness, running a finger along Obi-Wan’s jaw.

“It is the language of my home planet, and I will tell you one day, when you master it.”

Qui-Gon further treated him after lunch - lunch which was annoyingly joined by Darth Maul - by meditating with him, something his master only joined him for on occasion. Though, Obi-Wan wasn't sure exactly how effective his own meditation was, when instead of sitting across from him as usual, his master slipped into the space behind Obi-Wan, and tugged ta him until Obi-Wan was lying back against his chest. 

In all honesty Obi-Wan had more of a nap, than a meditation, but either way he felt serene when they left the small meditation chamber his master had had converted from a moderately sized storage room. It had a little fountain in it, and was so brimming with plants the first time Obi-Wan had entered he hadn’t been sure where they were supposed to sit, before eventually spying the two cushions set out by the water fountain. 

His serenity was interrupted, however, when upon re-entering the training salle, thet found Maul and Xanatos were waiting for them. 

“There is another salle, Xanatos, as well you know,” his master said as he strode into the room, though the other rooms was cramped and small compared to this one. 

“Of course Lord Avarus, but Darth Maul expressed an interest in practicing his saber technique while he was in the presence of another talented sith. I was simply showing him where he would be able to find you,” Xanatos replied, with a niceness that was ill-suited on him, at odds with his sharp look. 

“Perhaps your...padawan would like to spar as well,” Maul suggested, and Obi-wan resisted the urge to tuck himself in behind his master like a small child searching for the familiar. 

“I don’t think so,” his master replied, not pausing in his stride into the room, and Obi-Wan following him closely, trying to give off even some of the confidence that his master could. 

“So sure, Avarus? It is good to practice against more than one person, or he will know your style perfectly, and not know how to adapt to anyone else’s,” Maul replied, and Obi-Wan hated that it made so much sense. 

“Perhaps Avarus’ padawan is simply not yet skilled enough to be able to spar with you,” Xanatos suggested, immediately drawing the ire of his master. 

“Watch your tongue, Xanatos, it is not your place to speak on matters you know nothing of. And I would remind you, that it was not _you_ who I decided was worthy to be my padawan.”

“My apologies, Lord Avarus,” Xanatos apologised, eyes trained on the floor. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan said, glad he didn’t sound as hesitant as he felt, feeling bolstered when his master gave him his attention. “Darth Maul makes a good point, perhaps it would be beneficial if I sparred with him?”

“You’re sure, you are under no obligation to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, pet,” his master replied.

“I’m sure,” Obi-Wan nodded, and his master turned back to the other sith. 

“You will have you saber on it’s lowest setting,” his master said to the other sith, who nodded easily. 

He took up his opening stance in the salle and lit his own blue saber, eyes going wide as Maul revealed a double bladed one. It left him on the back foot, he had never fought against a staff-wielder before and Maul’s presence in the force still left him unsettled, unable to sense what his next move might be and forced to react at the last second to everything. As soon as he felt like he got his feet under himself, Maul hit him with a force push directly in the chest and he stumbled back. 

Maul was laughing, Xanatos too, and he head his master warn the other sith, but Maul hadn’t really done anything wrong, Obi-Wan hadn’t even fallen over, and he redoubled his efforts, determined not to look like a fool in front of his master. It was useless though, every time he blocked he was immediately tripping over himself as Maul whirled the other half of his blade towards him. 

“There appear to be some weaknesses in your padawan’s training,” Maul said, voice precariously close to a sneer as he bashed Obi-Wan’s lightsaber hard enough with his own that it sent uncomfortable vibrations singing up Obi-Wan’s arm, leaving him slow on his next block, which Maul apparently sensed, as he received a hard elbow to his sternum, leaving him stumbling back again, coughing for air this time.

“That’s enough, I think,” his master said, making Obi-Wan burn with shame, feel as though he had let his master down. 

“I’m okay,” he said, steadying himself on his feet, trying to ignore the way his master frowned. “I can keep going.”

“You have nothing to prove, pet,” Qui-Gon replied, tucking one of the wavy locks of Obi-Wan’s growing hair behind his ear, dangerously close to finding the braid. Obi-Wan felt more insecure about his master finding it than he had in weeks, right as he was failing to make him proud to have taken Obi-Wan on. 

“If you don’t let him practice, he will never learn,” Maul said, and Obi-Wan understood that he was being mocked, but also desperately wanted to at least show that he could put up a good fight, last more than thirty seconds in a fight. 

“Very well,” his master siad, voice tight and irritated, and Obi-Wan felt a coil of anxiety expand and wrap around more of his insides as he realised he was the cause of that irritation. 

With Xanatos watching him with mirth in his eyes, Maul making it clear that he was toying with him like a cat with a trapped mouse, and his master’s displeasure so clear for him to feel, Obi-Wan couldn’t find his serenity. He was nowhere near the calm, clear headedness he liked when he fought, instead he felt off-kilter in every way, and found himself even more embarrassed when Maul caught him with a hit that an initiate would be able to block, singing his padawan robes before he swept Obi-Wan’s feet out from under him, making him fall on his ass, losing his grip on his saber and burning his own fingers slightly. 

“That is _enough_ ,” his master said, voice thunderous, and Obi-Wan felt himself tremble, forcefully swallowing down tears. No wonder his master wanted them to stop, before Obi-Wan could embarrass him further. 

His master opened his mouth to speak again when his comm went off, his presence being requested in operations, the voice sounding urgent. He came over to Obi-Wan, and helped to lift him off the floor, Obi-Wan’s entire body brimming with shame - and not the kind that he liked - making him worm his way out of his master’s pitying hands as soon as he was up. 

“I am needed elsewhere, but pet I would like you to go to the meditation room and relax for a while, understand?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied, not making eye contact, able to feel his master’s frown anyway. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for pet, I will see you later.”

“You are of course welcome to stay and spar with Xanatos, if that is your preference,” his master said to Maul, before striding out of the room, speaking quickly into the comms. 

Obi-Wan wished he hadn’t been left alone in here with Maul and Xanatos, and tried to quickly retrieve his cloak from the chair his master had draped it over. The two sith didn’t say anything to him, but Obi-Wan heard Xanatos laugh, and when he couldn’t help but turn and look, found the other man sneering at him, and whispering to Maul, who was watching him again with those unnerving yellow eyes. 

As he fled the room, Obi-Wan was hit by an overwhelming desire to go back to his master’s rooms instead of the meditation room like he had been asked, the force nearly screaming it at him. But he had already failed his master today, and he felt like the least he could do was meditate as he had been asked, before retreating to their bed. Assuming he was even welcome there anymore, after today’s failures.

The meditation room was a least something of a balm to him, and Obi-Wan set on the cushion intended for him, and ruminated on what had happened in the training salle. He should be able to keep his cool no matter how his opponent was, or what weapon they wielded. If that had been a real confrontation, instead of a sparring session, then he would have been dead. And what use was a jedi that couldn’t adapt in a fight anyway? Perhaps they had been right to ship him off to Bandomeer after all. 

He found it hard to settle throughout his meditation, the usually tranquil room feeling disturbed instead, which Obi-Wan put down to his unsteady feelings for the hour he tried to achieve meditation. By the time he was beginning to give it up as a lost cause, he was feeling even more of a disappointment than when he’d started. Opening his eyes with a frustrated sigh and letting back in all of the feelings he had been trying to push away during his meditation, Obi-Wan was slammed with the feeling of someone’s eyes on him. 

He turned quickly, jumping when he saw Maul leaning just inside the entrance, door closed behind him, watching Obi-Wan. He had no idea how long the other sith had been there. The meditation room was large enough for two adults to move comfortably around one another, and it had never felt crowded with his master, but shut in here with Maul, the room felt claustrophobic. Trying not to let his feelings show on his face, Obi-Wan rose from the cushion and dusted off his tunics.

“Lord Maul, I didn’t notice you enter,” Obi-Wan said, hoping that was the right term of address, and keeping his voice as neutral as he could manage. He felt stranded, there was no way he could get through the door without Maul moving, completely blocking it with his large frame. The sith didn’t say anything, just continued watching him and blocking the exit. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have some things I need to see to,” Obi-Wan lied, standing up a little straighter and striding for the door. 

It was a mistake, he had hoped that Maul would step out of his way and let him leave, but when he didn’t it only left Obi-Wan closer than he wanted to be. It also made him realise that he was in trouble here, that he wasn’t overreacting, and the sith had him deliberately trapped.

“When I first saw you,” Maul finally spoke, taking a step forward which forced Obi-Wan to take one back. “I thought that you might have some skill, that you really were adept, and Avarus was training you.”

“I _am,_ ” Obi-Wan protested, anxiety ratcheting up as Maul took another step, Obi-Wan already running out of room to retreat into.

“Really? But you couldn’t last five seconds in a simple sparring session, you couldn’t even achieve your meditation properly, could you? Perhaps your master just fills you up with pretty words, to make those pretty legs spread,” Maul taunted, and Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, feeling his insecurities flayed out, even if deep down, he knew they weren’t true.

“No, Darth Avarus is training me, I’m - ”

“Protest all you like, Xanatos already told me what you really are, a little whore playing dress up,” Mauls words were like knives cutting into Obi-Wan, and he was still backing up, tripping over one of the plants around the edge of the room, Maul caught him up the arm to keep him upright. Obi-Wan would have rather fallen; he tugged his arm to try and get away, and Maul held him tighter. 

“Let go of me,” Obi-Wan said, struggling in a grip that was only getting tighter, bruising his arm. 

“Why? You looked like such a sweet slut warming your master’s cock, I think I’d like a taste,” Maul smirked, trying now to force Obi-Wan to his knees, and finally he panicked, lashing out at Maul and managing to push him back a bit, only to receive a hard smack around his face that made his cheek sting and split his lip. “ _Cur_.”

“I’ll tell Avarus, he’ll, he’ll - ” Obi-Wan shouted, struggling for words as Maul grabbed him again, sneering, face twisted in a mixture of anger and enjoyment.

“He’ll what? Who’s good will here do you think he values more? A fellow sith, or some hole he picked up on a backwater planet? He’ll let me have what I want, the way you fawn over him is pathetic,” Maul mocked him, one of his hands reaching for Obi-Wan’s obi and belts as the other held him, Obi-Wan lashed out and tried to push Maul away again. 

“Stop it!” Obi-Wan shouted, but it sounded weak and worried even to his own ears, and Maul laughed at him, grabbed him harder, hurting him. 

“Be quiet and do as your superiors order,” Maul growled, pulling again at Obi-Wan’s clothes, hard enough that he heard fabric beginning to tear. “You wouldn’t want to cause a fuss for your master, would you, wouldn’t want to create problems for him with his peers. I’m a Darth, you’re nothing, a whore, and I can have you if I want. He wouldn’t jeopardise our alliance for _you_.”

Obi-Wan was shaking, feeling bile rising in his throat and Maul smacked him again when he didn’t stop struggling, he couldn’t find his serenity to help him fight back, his strength nothing compared to Mauls. And there was that nagging feeling, that maybe Maul was right, that he shouldn’t cause problems with the other sith, his master had already tolerated so much behaviour from Maul that he didn’t like, Obi-Wan didn’t know how much his master was allowed to police the other sith, for all Obi-Wan knew Maul was his superior. 

His heart was hammering wildly as Maul continued to knock him down as he struggled, the sith nearly had his shirts off and Obi-Wan noticed vaguely that he had started to cry in his panic. He couldn’t call for his master, he wouldn’t hear him, the meditation room was soundproofed to help Obi-Wan calm his mind. Obi-Wan understood what was about to happen if he didn’t find a way to stop it, but Maul was ignoring his pleas for him to stop - in fact he seemed to be enjoying it. 

Obi-Wan started screaming when Maul knocked him flat on his back, pinning him down with a heavy knee on his chest and the force binding his arms as the sith started ripping at his pants. Obi-Wan reached out to the light, but his power with it was nothing to Maul’s presence in the dark, no more than a wave lapping at a cliff.

“Stop, stop, get off of me!” Obi-Wan shouted, kicking out one of his legs only for the sith to hit his knee viciously, make it throb with pain. 

“By all means keep fighting me, I have no problem returning you to your master black and blue. I wonder if he’ll still want you at all after you’ve been used by someone else,” Maul sneered, Obi-Wan’s pants were only just hanging to to his hips and Maul was reaching for his own and something snapped in Obi-Wan. 

He roared, panic, rage and fear mixing together inside him into a brilliant cocktail and he reached out to it in a way a jedi never should. With an almighty push of dark force energy, swirling around Obi-Wan like a hurricane, he shoved Maul off of him, the sith entirely unprepared for it. Maul stumbled, growled furiously as he climbed back to his feet, and on a reflex he couldn’t control, a primal instinct to defend himself, Obi-Wan lit his saber and swiped clean through the sith’s middle.

Darth Maul’s body fell to the floor in two clean pieces to the floor, and Obi-Wan stood heaving with breath. His saber fell from his hand and he stumbled backwards, the only thing keeping him upright the wall as he began to hyperventilate, the panic attack stealing away his breath, making him break out in a cold sweat and tremble so hard his elbow was bashing against the metal.

The wall was cold against his naked back and he couldn’t breathe, hunching in on himself, unable to look away from Maul’s body on the floor. What had he done? Would his master ever forgive him? Was it even in his master’s power _to_ forgive this? Obi-Wan gasped for breath as he thought of the emperor himself punishing him, for killing one of his precious sith. Worse, he thought of the emperor punishing Qui-Gon for it. 

His face was soaked with panicked tears that he couldn’t stop, vision was going spotty, he was about to black out from lack of air no matter how he gasped for it, clawing at his own throat. The door clattered open with an almighty crash that shocked Obi-Wan enough for him to catch one tiny breath of air before losing it again, seeing his master looking wild and furious in the doorway. Obi-Wan turned away, letting himself crumple to the floor in panic and shame, covering his head with his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¬‿¬ oh dear...


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed a Tuesday update!!! Yaasss meeee!! The reception to the last chapter was EVEN CRAZIER THAN USUAL and made me write like the wiiiiiind!
> 
> Its QuiObi Kink Week next week, and I am participating, so updates might slow down to one every other day until I've written all my fills IM SORRY but on the bright side, most of the fills will be kinky side stories for this fic of what Avarus and Obi get up to that we don't get to see ¬‿¬
> 
> Warning foooor: more plot! Hurt comfort! qui being *really* sithy, i know we dont care about Xanatos but he is Mistreated in this chapter so fair warning for that

Qui-Gon had been in the middle of berating an ensign for a rookie mistake that could have broadcast their location to anyone searching for them when he felt it; a spike of fear that was definitely not his own. He paused in his tirade and searched for it, following a thread of the force away from himself, until he found distress and panic so palpable he was almost sick with it. 

He dropped the ensign and the datapad in his hand, turned and ran from the operations suite. He used the force to assist him in his run, following that thread to the meditation room he had built for Obi-Wan, before he reached it, there was a moment of dark rage, followed by an avalanche of dread. He didn’t wait the second it would take the door to open when he reached it, ripping it off his hinges with the force and stumbling in. 

For a moment, he couldn’t digest the scene in front of him, not because what had happened wasn’t immediately obvious - it was written in Obi-Wan’s torn clothes, in Maul’s decapitated body spread on the floor, in his padawan’s panic - but because some intrinsic part of him didn’t want it to be true. This ship, the room, they were supposed to be places that were _safe_ for Obi-Wan.

But he only allowed himself that single moment of denial before he saw his padawan slip to the floor in despair, and rushed over to him. He didn’t touch him, hesitated with his hands hovering close to Obi-Wan’s clammy skin, and noticed Obi-Wan didn’t seem to be able to breathe, panicked gasps becoming more and more desperate. 

So much of his skin was on show that Qui-Gon felt panicked, but knew now was not the time to overshadow his padawan’s emotions with his own, and he pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around Obi-Wan’s body as well as he could, hoping it would make him feel less exposed, comforted even.

“Obi-Wan, pet, look at me,” Qui-Gon said, working hard to appear calm, knowing that the fury he was feeling would do nothing to soothe his padawan, and quite possibly make his panic attack worse, but there was a rage building in him, that he knew he was going to have to find an outlet for. He wished the medical droids on his ship could stitch Maul back together, just so that he could have the pleasure of tearing him apart himself.

Obi-Wan didn’t look at him, wouldn’t move his arms from over his head, curling into a smaller and smaller ball on the floor as he failed to catch his breath, the lack of air causing a vicious cycle that panicked him more. He was shaking his head, the only sign he had heard Qui-Gon at all. Qui-Gon reached down that thread of force, no time for his elation that a bond existed between them , and tried to calm Obi-Wan that way. 

“Pet, I need you to try and breathe, can you do that for me,” Qui-Gon asked, iron control over himself keeping his hands clear and his voice steady. But Obi-Wan didn’t respond again, only tried to heave in sobs harder, shook more violently when he failed, and Qui-Gon couldn’t suppress the growl that rose in his throat, guilt lashing over him when Obi-Wan immediately tried to make himself smaller. 

“Obi-Wan, I am going to touch you, if you need me to stop you tell me and I will let go, if you can’t speak then you tap me three times, do you understand?” Qui-Gon said, voice firm, the tone Obi-Wan found it difficult not to obey, and he was relieved when his padawan nodded his head haltingly, as much as he could in his state. 

Qui-Gon sat on the ground beside Obi-Wan, scooped Obi-Wan up into his arms as smoothly as he could manage with the ball his padawan was curled into, and pulled Obi-Wan into his lap. He wrapped Obi-Wan up as completely as he could, legs and arms encircling his padawan and encouraging his padawan to tuck his face into his neck. He held Obi-Wan tight and regulated his own breathing, slow and deep, making his chest expand in a way that Obi-Wan could feel more clearly than usual. 

“Breathe with me, pet, just like this,” he murmured, holding Obi-Wan tight, his padawan flinched and he loosened his grip, noticing with a bruise already forming on his bicep and roiling with barely concealed anger. “Come on little one, I know you can do it.”

“I’m, I’m - ” Obi-Wan tried to speak, after managing to pull in the tiniest sip of air. 

“Shhh pet, don’t try to speak until you’ve calmed down a bit, focus on your breathing, good boy,” Qui-Gon soothed, tucking his hand under the cloak he had draped around Obi-Wan and rubbing his hands in circles against Obi-Wan’s skin. His _bare_ skin. His rage tried to bubble past his control again, but held it tight. 

“B-but - ” Obi-Wan tried to speak again, voice breaking off into a sob, breathing growing ragged again, a fresh wave of panic flushing through him; Obi-wan had no shields to speak of, and Qui-Gon felt again how terrified he was, a jumble of large emotions that he didn’t know how to process. 

“Shh, please Obi-Wan, just breathe with me and listen. I am not angry with you,” he kissed Obi-Wan’s hairline and hushed him again when he tried to stammer out words. He was still hyperventilating, although less furiously, snatching little gulps of uneven air now. “You defended yourself, and I am _glad_ that you did.”

Qui-Gon held him, rocking his padawan gently in his arms, growing more and more relieved as Obi-Wan lost a small amount of his tension, uncoiled a little in his arms and let himself be comforted, slowly shifting around until eventually he was straddling Qui-Gon, arms throw around Qui-Gon’s neck as he cradled his back.

“I killed a sith,” Obi-Wan whispered, tensing as he said it, and Qui-Gon soothed him again. 

“You defended yourself,” Qui-Gon corrected, voice soft but firm. 

“I’m going to get in trouble,” Obi-Wan whimpered, clutching Qui-Gon more tightly. 

“No pet, you’re not in trouble, you did exactly what you should have done, you never have to let anyone touch you if you don’t want it, not even me.”

“Not in trouble with you,” Obi-Wan replied, and Qui-Gon knew that that situation was harder, but not for his padawan to worry about, not if he could help it anyway. 

“I will deal with it little one, I will make it go away if I can, but no one will take you from me, no one will punish you. Not even the emperor, do you understand?”

“You can’t promise that,” Obi-Wan replied, a line of worry in his voice that Qui-Gon knew only time and proof would soothe. He would like to see Sidious try to take what was his from him, he would destroy the empire and the republic both, if it meant he got to keep Obi-Wan with him atop the ashes. 

“We are going to go and complete the mission without Maul, and when the rebellion has been silenced, I will contact the emperor and tell him that Maul is dead, but that operations are still running smoothly. The emperor hates weakness, pet, he might be annoyed that he lost a lieutenant, but in the decades I have been working for him, he has only ever seen the death of sith as weeding out the weak links.”

“Will you tell him the truth?” Obi-Wan asked trepidation in his voice, but otherwise truly calming in Qui-Gon’s arms. 

“I am not sure yet. My first instinct is to tell him it was me, to shield you from it, but it is likely that by the time we contact him, he will already know what happened here - I am not arrogant enough to think that my ship is free of his spies - and then my lying will only show too much of my hand, regarding you.”

“So Sidious will know what I did?” Obi-Wan whimpered, Qui-Gon able to feel his panic rising up again, and rocked him gently. 

“We will talk about this more when you are calmer, but whatever happens, I will keep you safe, I promise,” Qui-Gon swore, to himself as much as it was to his padawan, never again would Obi-Wan be threatened in his own home, he wouldn’t allow it. 

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said, the wind falling out of his body as he finally sagged in Qui-Gon’s arms, and let himself be held properly. 

Obi-Wan seemed calmer, and Qui-Gon forced himself to ask the question that was leaving an acrid taste in his mouth. 

“Did he- did he touch you, padawan? Did he manage anything before you stopped him?”

“No,” Obi-Wan said quietly, shaking his head in a small movement against Qui-Gon’s neck, a wave of relief rushing through him. “But he was- he was gunna- ”

“Shh pet, you don’t need to say it, I know what he was going to do,” Qui-Gon hushed, coaxing Obi-Wan back to settling. 

Qui-Gon kept him there for a little while, finally standing up when Obi-Wan was beginning to doze off, carrying his padawan with him. As quietly as he could, Qui-Gon commed a couple of droids, and tasked them with clearing up the body - to bag it up and send it out an airlock - before righting the room. 

He carried Obi-Wan back to their room, using the force to keep most of the other occupants of the corridor out of their sight - and more importantly, Obi-Wan out of theirs - and felt relieved when the door to their room closed behind them. He set Obi-Wan down on the edge of the beg and carefully, slowly so that Obi-Wan could stop him if he wanted to, removed his cloak, and the surviving tatters of Obi-Wan’s clothes, throwing the latter straight down the garbage chute and out of sight

“Master?” Obi-Wan said hesitantly, more awake than Qui-Gon had realised, as Qui-Gon started trying to maneuver him into bed.. 

“Yes pet,” he replied, standing in front of his padawan and stroking his hair. 

“Could you wash me? I don’t feel nice,” his pet said, little tears welling in his eyes, and Qui-Gon immediately berated himself, he was a fool, of course Obi-Wan would want to clean off his skin after such an ordeal. He needed to do better for his padawan, especially now.

“Of course pet, anything you want, would you like a bath or a shower?”

“Shower, please. Master will you come in with me?”

“Yes little one,” Qui-gon replied, the ache in his chest warring to keep down the rage that was still simmering under his skin. He undressed himself and helped Obi-Wan into the shower, lathering up his skin and washing him down, concerned by how quiet his pet was being, but not entirely surprised by it. 

He washed Obi-Wan’s hair, more thoroughly than he usually did, massaging Obi-Wan’s scalp, fingers not missing anywhere, and when they travelled just behind Obi-Wan’s ear, his padawan tensed letting out a rushed ‘ _wait_ ’, but it was too late, and Qui-Gon’s hands tangled with something pinned in his hair. He stilled his hand, but Obi-Wan was already hanging his head in shame, clearly believing his master had found something Obi-Wan didn’t want him to. But Qui-Gon wasn’t entirely sure what he had found, and forced himself not to explore further against his padawan’s wishes; another day he might have, but not today.

“Pet, is there something in your hair?” He asked, and Obi-Wan looked at the floor and shuffled his feet, nodding hesitantly. “May I have a look at it?”

Obi-Wan nodded, before saying in a heartbreakingly small voice; “Please don’t make fun of me.”

“I promise,” Qui-Gon cooed, before moving his fingers through Obi-Wan’s wet hair, and plucking out the grips holding whatever it was hidden. He had his suspicions, but still felt something inside him catch when a little padawan braid dropped out from Obi-Wan’s wavy hair. It had been well hidden, and the braid only really reached half an inch beyond the rest of his hair, but it was undeniably a padawan’s braid, grown for Qui-Gon. “Oh _pet_.”

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t like jedi things. But I wanted to feel like a proper padawan. I’m sorry. It’s silly, I know I’m not.”

“Hey,” Qui-Gon said, frowning and catching Obi-Wan’s chin, coaxing him into looking up, he looked so pretty wet from the shower, skin flushed pink from the warmth, face embarrassed. “I may not be a jedi, but you are most certainly my padawan, and a very gifted one, at that.” 

“I can cut it off, if you don't like it,” Obi-Wan mumbled, insecure even now, when Qui-Gon felt sure his feelings were clear. Written across Obi-Wan’s face was the evidence of how badly he wanted to keep it.

“No pet, I love it, I want you to keep it.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Qui-Gon confirmed, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s slightly slack lips. “Can I show you something, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan nodded again, biting at his lip as Qui-Gn toyed with his short braid. “Close your eyes.”

When he padawan did as he was asked, Qui-Gon watched for a moment, mesmerised as droplets of water gathered in his long lashes, before closing his own eyes. He gathered Obi-Wan’s hands in his, and held them tight against his chest, before reaching out with the force, down that fledgling bond that he had felt, the one that had told him Obi-Wan was in distress.

He followed the thread, it felt dark and consuming at his end, and burning with a searingly bright light at Obi-Wan’s, and when he was close to all that light, he reached out with the force and tugged on it, sending a simple thought down their fledgling bond; _hello pet_. 

Obi-Wan gasped, opening his eyes and rocking into Qui-Gon’s space, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Is...is that a training bond, master?” He asked, looking dazed, and Qui-Gon could feel him searching out with the force, unpractised, clumsy and perfect, and met him halfway. He could feel his darkness and Obi-Wan’s light meeting, tangling together and sending warmth racing back down the body towards them both, Obi-Wan letting out another rush of air. 

“It is a bond,” Qui-Gon said, unable to stop his fingers from playing with the short braid sat behind his padawan’s ear. “But I am not yet sure what kind. It could be a training bond, or it could be something a little deeper.”

He half expected Obi-Wan to press for more, but thankfully his padawan didn’t, leaving Qui-Gon with more time to figure it out for himself. He resented the fact that his discovery of their bond had been such an unhappy moment, when it deserved to be something that he rejoiced in. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan said again, when Qui-Gon returned to washing his hair. 

“Yes my sweet?” 

“I- At first I grew it because I wanted to feel like a jedi, but for a little while now…”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to grow it for you,” Obi-Wan whispered. 

He was still staring shyly at his feet, as if he expected rejection even now. And Qui-Gon was forced to finally acknowledge something which he had known for a while now, but had been too cowardly to admit to himself: he loved his pet. With an intensity that was almost terrifying, for all the weakness it could cause him. Thinking about how easy it would be for someone to hurt his Obi-Wan, just to hurt him, if they knew how he felt was enough to have his hackles rising. 

“I hope I continue to be worthy of it,” Qui-Gon replied, voice feeling thick and heavy in his mouth, unable to say the words he wanted to. He hoped that he made up for it, when later that evening he dried Obi-Wan’s hair, and cut a lock from his own, asking his padawan’s permission to thread it into the braid. 

Obi-Wan had flushed, nodded excitedly and squirmed as Qui-Gon brushed out his hair and braided his own in along with Obi-Wan’s. By the time he was done, Obi-Wan’s fingers were tugging ever so gently at the towel around Qui-Gon’s waist, turning the doting kisses Qui-Gon was showering him with greedy. 

“Are you sure, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, wary of what had almost happened that day, but his padawan was enthusiastic.

“Please master,” Obi-Wan replied, voice taking on that needy edge Qui-Gon loved so much. 

“Anything you want,” Qui-Gon said again, wondering if he could pinpoint exactly how long it had been true. 

He was gentle, perhaps even more so than he had been that first time, bending Obi-Wan in half, so that his knees were pressed between their chests. His padawan was flexible, could be bent in half so easily, letting Qui-Gon get so deep inside him while holding him close. As he took him, Obi-Wan kept his fingers loosely circled around Qui-Gon’s wrist and held on, Qui-Gon’s other hand cradled his face as they kissed, his long hair falling like a curtain around them. 

Obi-Wan fell asleep easily after that, clearly craving closeness, and surrendering to a deep sleep as Qui-Gon spooned up behind him. When Obi-Wan had been breathing deeply for almost an hour, Qui-Gon using their newfound bond to track his padawan’s dreams, and make sure they were peaceful. When he was satisfied that Obi-Wan was not being plagued by the nightmares he had feared, Qui-Gon used a push of the force to send Obi-Wan into an either deeper slumber, so that he could extract himself from his padawan’s embrace, without waking him. 

He watched Obi-Wan for a few more moments, he chased the heat of Qui-Gon’s body and wiggled into the space he had vacated, but otherwise remained deeply asleep. Qui-Gon bent down and kissed Obi-Wan’s forehead, before quietly dressing himself, and exiting the room.

As soon as the door was closed behind him, the anger that he had kept carefully controlled since he had found Obi-Wan began to take him over, what had been simmering under his skin he now let boil over, as it had needed to do for hours. Obi-Wan’s sweetness hadn’t calmed it, every piece of comfort he had sought had only reminded Qui-Gon of _why_ he needed that comfort so badly. 

He didn’t shake with rage, there was no outward sign of his fury as he stalked back through his ship, though he knew to any force sensitive, his presence would be perturbing to be in right now; perhaps that was why he didn’t see Xanatos, who usually materialised desperately as soon as Obi-Wan was away from him, simpering for attention. 

He paused outside the meditation room, door destroyed but the room otherwise righted by the droids. He felt his hands ball into tight fists looking at where Maul had lain, cleaved in two, and wished he could force him back into living, just to have the pleasure to take it from him again, but much more slowly this time. Qui-Gon held out an open hand to the room and closed his fist, letting dark force energy flow through him, crushing the room almost entirely, as much as he could without risking the integrity of his ship. 

The noise was loud, metal crunching and groaning as it was forced out of shape, plants ripped up and the fountain obliterated, in one swift move, the room became impassable. He felt a shift in the mood of the ship as the noise reverberated through the ship, they knew they were not under attack, and every one of his staff became on edge, _good_. He checked down their bond on Obi-Wan again, and deepened his slumber once more, the noise stirring him a little. He didn’t want him to wake up alone, didn’t want him to know he had been left alone at all.

It wasn’t enough, the rage was still roaring under his skin, with Maul dead and no fight to be had there was no clear place for it to go, but he needed to bleed it from his skin in the only way he knew how. Qui-Gon returned to striding through his ship back towards the operations suite. He knew where he wanted to let lose his ire, where in the absence of Maul, it rightfully belonged. 

He was calm as he entered operations, but the anxiety in the room was high, they knew something was wrong - not to worry, Qui-Gon was about to set it right - and with a pull of the force, he dragged the ensign from his seat, dumping him on the ground at his feet. 

Were it not for this pathetic creature’s mistake, he would never have been called from the training salle, and Obi-Wan would never have been left alone. He never would have been touched. 

“Lord Avarus, I - ” the ensign started, voice scared, he spoke no more, as Qui-Gon cut off his airway with the force, and used the hold to drag him to his feet, and then higher, so his toes were only scraping desperately at the floor. 

“Mistakes have consequences,” he snarled. The ensign looked helpless, the blood vessels in his eyes bursting, fixing Qui-Gon with his most beseeching look. Qui-Gon thought of Obi-Wan, with his closed ripped and sobbing on the floor of the meditation room Qui-Gon had built for him. He released the ensign, who was halfway through choking otu his thanks, when Qui-Gon drove his saber through his gut. 

It was fatal, and it was slow, and Qui-Gon did nothing to speed his passing.

“Errors will no longer be tolerated on this ship,” Qui-Gon growled in warning, kicking the still twitching ensign to the side. But his body was still alive with unspent rage, like a live wire sparking at anything that got close, and he needed rid of it before he returned to Obi-Wan. “Find Xanatos, send him to the salle with his saber.”

“My lord I believe Xantos is asleep.”

“The wake him,” Qui-Gon roared, lighting his saber threateningly, feeling some satisfaction as his staff raced off to do as bid. But he also felt his ire grow, that they felt entitled enough not to do exactly as he said, when he said it, things would change around here, and as he retreated to contact Xanatos, Qui-Gon grabbed the lieutenant with the force, and tossed him roughly against the wall. He would live, but he would not make such a pointless remark again. 

Qui-Gon thundered out of the room, and towards the training room, throwing off his cloak and lighting his saber, his agitation growing with every minute that he passed alone. When Xanatos arrived, he did not look fresh from sleep, his hair was tidy, his clothes tighter than his usual fare. Qui-Gon sneered at him. 

“You made me wait so that you could look _pretty_ , I don’t remember you being this pathetic Xanatos.” Qui-Gon lit his saber with no warning and attacked, Xanatos stumbling and only just blocking the blow in time. 

“Master!” Xanatos protested before righting himself, finding his footing. 

“I’m not your master Xanatos, you weren’t good enough, remember,” Qui-Gon goaded, his words designed to hurt, it was so easy to rile the other man up, always only a hair's breadth from losing control of himself, held in line solely by his enduring infatuation. 

“We’ll see about that, Lord Avarus,” Xanatos bit back, attacking Qui-Gon with a flurry of blows that were hard and fast. He deflected each of them easily, and landed a crack of his elbow into Xanatos’ chin, sending the younger man stumbling back. 

“No wonder I threw you away.” Qui-Gon attacked again, with heavy blows that battered Xanatos’ defences, his former padawan shouting when he deliberately clipped his arm, his lightsaber not turned down to spar and burn Xanatos through his clothes. 

“If you threw me away then why am I still here?” Xanatos bit back, throwing fury into his attacks, he couldn’t truly challenge Qui-Gon, but the fight was what he needed, verbal and physical, burning the rage out of his muscles every time he struck or burned Xanatos, with every cruel word. 

They sparred, Qui-Gon pushing hard than he should, injuring Xanatos more than once, but Xanatos clawed back to his feet every time. Xanatos rushed into close quarters, hoping to find an opening, and Qui-Gon grabbed him with one hand by the throat and slammed him against the wall hard enough to clatter his skull, leave bruises.

He squeezed at Xanatos’ throat, and when he considered letting him go, he hear Xanatos mewl, his eyes blown as he attempted to get his legs around Qui-Gon’s waist; as if he had ever faced him. Qui-Gon threw him hard against the table and laughed callously as Xanatos spread his legs and lifted his ass.

“Oh you pathetic thing,” Qui-Gon laughed, Xanatos immediately faltering, and turning around to look over his shoulder, back at Qui-Gon. “As if I would want _you_ anymore. How many people have you let fuck you now?”

“I do as you ask me!” Xanatos shouted back, a rare flush coming to his cheeks fuelled by anger and humiliation as he stumbled to his feet and relit his saber. 

“Yes, you do,” Qui-Gon said, voice mockingly simpering. “And now you’re all used up, aren’t you _Xani_.”

Xanatos screamed with rage, exactly what Qui-Gon needed, and they met in a violent clash of sabers, Xanatos’ rage growing as Qui-Gon’s finally - _finally_ \- began to truly abate with every punch and burn he landed to Xanatos, ruining the nice clothes he had pitifully dressed himself in.

Qui-Gon beat Xanatos back every time, like a lion toying with its food, which only fuelled Xanatos’ rage further as Qui-Gon’s ebbed away. Xanatos was panting, beginning to wilt with exertion, and Qui-Gon brutally disarmed him, burning his hand and landing a vicious kick to Xanatos’ sternum, kicking him over so fully his head smacked against the floor, too exhausted to catch his fall with the force. He didn’t thank Xanatos, though he felt much calmer now, and turned with a derisive final look to his failed apprentice, and headed for the door.

“He’ll never be what you need,” Xanatos shouted after him, it was bold - it was fucking stupid - and the younger man realised his mistake a moment too late as his airway closed. 

Qui-Gon choked him, he let Xanatos step too far out of line too often; that stopped now. He considered, for a moment, watching the life leave his eyes right then and there. But Xanatos wasn’t some ensign easily replaced the next day, and he had his uses still, so desperate for attention he was _happy_ to be a receptacle for Qui-Gon’s rage. Qui-Gon released the hold, and then broken Xanatos’ jaw with a sharp crack. 

“Speak out of turn again, and I’ll cut out your tongue and sell you to a pleasure house,” Qui-Gon promised, voice dark as he stroked Xanatos’ face, whimpering in pain, pressing briefly on the break. He would let the medical droids see to Xanatos tomorrow, no earlier, and he would learn his place, and he strode out of the room, cutting the lights and leaving Xanatos on the floor. 

Obi-Wan was still asleep when he got back to their room, and still looked peaceful, and feeling finally settled in the force, Qui-Gon slipped back into bed with his sweet padawan, dropping kisses to his soft skin as he instinctively turned into Qui-Gon. It was easy to fall asleep, with Obi-Wan safe in his arms. 

Obi-Wan was quiet the next morning, even after he squirmed and begged with his body for Qui-Gon to fuck him, panting as his little hole was stretched and filled. Qui-Gon was holding him in his lap, stroking his back as Obi-Wan came down from his climax, Qui-Gon’s come still dripping out of his hole. Cradled in his arms, Obi-Wan finally spoke. 

“Master?”

“Hmmm?” Qui-Gon replied, nosing at Obi-Wan’s ear; he loved the curve of it, loved that it was almost always warm from a blush. He loved the braid that sat just behind it. 

“Yesterday I- I used the dark side,” he said, voice filled with worry, sounding suddenly upset, so Qui-Gon held him closer, wished he was hard enough still to slip back inside his pet, knowing - though Obi-Wan would blush to have it noticed aloud - how it comforted his pet. 

“I know, I felt it,” Qui-Gon replied, it had swam down the bond to him. 

“I- I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know pet, it was good that you used whatever you could to protect yourself. Did you not like it?”

“I don’t know. Jedi don’t- they shouldn’t- I know I’m not one but I shouldn’t have done it,” Obi-Wan whispered, a slight sniffle catching his word, Qui-Gon hushed him, tangled the braid between his fingers and cradled Obi-Wan’s head on his shoulder. 

“You did what you had to do, but you don’t have to do it again. The light does not disappear, just because you touched the dark when you needed it.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No pet, you are my perfect little jedi, and I would not change you. You are so strong and bright with the light, I would be sad if you turned away from it completely. You are beautiful, exactly as you are,” Qui-Gon replied honestly. 

He wished he had seen Obi-Wan touch the dark, hoped that he had the opportunity to in the future, was sure that his padawan was magnificent with it, dark and intoxicating, sensual, Qui-Gon imagined. But, he realised with a small note of surprise, he wouldn’t want the dark to consume the light in his pet, for all he hoped he relinquished his dreams of the jedi, he didn’t want to see his light dimmed.

“I haven’t looked in a mirror, since yesterday. I closed my eyes when we were in the ‘fresher.”

“Pet, why? I can’t imagine not wanting to look at that face.”

“I was worried...about my eyes,” Obi-Wan whispered, and Qui-Gon could feel his nervousness. 

“Oh Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon sighed, cupping Obi-Wan’s face in his large hands and looking into his pretty green eyes. “You eyes are the still the same sweet shade of green that put all the fields of Bandomeer to shame the day I met you,” Qui-Gon assured, and Obi-Wan’s cheeks tinted with a blush, and he pulled Qui-Gon into a kiss, that surprised Qui-Gon for the note of possessiveness that was not his own.

They reached Iloset the next day, and Qui-Gon was torn between having Obi-Wan stay on the ship away from the distasteful business, and keeping him by his side, where no one would be able to touch him. In the end, he left him with the pilot Obi-Wan had mentioned had been kind to him, on occasion. The occupants of the ship knew what would happen, if they so much as looked at his padawan wrong. 

He took Xanatos with him, jaw mostly fixed by generous application of bacta by the medical droids, though he was speaking less, and with an awkward movement in his jaw. No matter, Xanatos was not required to speak, only to stand with him holding a lightsaber, and looking unsavoury. 

He killed three of the ringleaders, the rest of the leaders were given a choice, die now, or live to see another day with real chips planted under their skin. Half of the remaining leaders chose death, valiant, but short sighted, as Qui-Gon planned to see their collars removed for good in the next few years anyway. But, he couldn’t very well tell them that, so they died. It improved Xanatos’ mood, and his remaining strop started to lessen. 

Upon his return to the ship, he knew it was time to contact Sidious. The truth was, he had no idea if it would be as simple as he had led his padawan believe, but he was certainly not going to let Obi-Wan be conflicted about murdering Maul in self defence. 

He had decided the safer option was to tell Sidious the truth of the incident, or a version of it, at least. The chance that someone aboard his ship was reporting directly to the emperor was too great a risk, and if Sisidous knew that it had been Obi-Wan, claiming to have killed Maul himself would leave both him and Obi-Wan vulnerable. He was at least certain that no one knew the exact circumstances of Maul’s death, even if that it had been Obi-Wan was a rumour on the ship. 

He didn’t tell Obi-Wan that he was contacting Sidious, it would only make his pet anxious while he waited, rather than thinking Qui-Gon was only seeing to some tedious business or another. 

“Darth Avarus,” came Sidious’ creaking voice, a hologram of his hooded, hunched figure coming up in the centre of the communications room. The door was locked and the line secure. “I was not expected communication from you today.”

“The rebellion in Iloset has been put down. The slaves’ spirit has been broken, with minimal loss of merchandise.”

“Very good my most promising apprentice,” Sidious replied, as if Qui-Gon was a child that could be groomed. “But why is Darth Maul not delivering this report.”

“Maul is dead.”

“A slave managed to kill him?” Sidious asked, foolish of the old fanatic, they both knew no crudely armed slave would be able to best a sith, and in confirmed to Qui-Gon that the emperor well knew who had killed Maul. 

“No, my apprentice did. Maul attempted to rape him, and so Kenobi cleaved him in two.”

“What did you tell your padawan, when you found him?”

“I told him to clean up the mess and get back to his training,” Qui-Gon lied smoothly, Sidious let out a twisted chuckle.

“Maul was a valued asset,” Sidious replied when he stopped his strange cackle, voice suddenly unreadable. 

“Maul was a fool who couldn’t defend himself against an apprentice with four months of formal training,” Qui-Gon countered, crossing his arms over his chest. “A weakness has been pruned from our ranks.”

“Be that as it may, Avarus, Maul controlled an important arm of this empire.”

“With my resources and network I am better placed to run the slave trade than Maul ever was.”

“You just have no stomach for it,” Sidious mocked, testing him now. 

“I am perfectly capable of doing what is necessary,” Qui-Gon replied, they both knew it was true, he had done more for this empire than Maul, Opress and Ventress had ever managed combined. Without him, the empire was down to half strength, his network built to invariably collapse, if he were ever taken from the equation. Qui-Gon had no allusions of how it worked within the sith.

“I expect productivity to remain at its current high,” Sidious replied, sounding, and looking, Qui-Gon thought, like a half-cloaked weasel. 

“Of course my lord.”

“As for this apprentice of yours, I am told he fancies himself a _jedi_.”

“A childish delusion that I have broken from him,” Qui-Gon waved it off. “I keep him in the padawan attire because it makes the jedi look weak.”

“A clever ploy,” Sidious agreed. “Word had reached me, of the jedi debasing himself at your feet.”

“Then it is likely also spreading through the republic as well,” Qui-Gon replied, though he doubted Obi-Wan had been an hour on his ship, before the emperor knew about him. Sidious seemed to like the idea, anyway, that sick grin twisting his face.

“You will train him to replace Maul. I will track his progress, and when you think he is ready, I will decide if he is as worthy as you think.”

“I look forward to that day,” Qui-Gon lied, bowing low as Sidious’ ego preferred as the communication was cut, and trying to figure out how he could shield Obi-Wan from him, when the time came. 

Sidious was powerful, only a fool underestimated him, and Qui-Gon had not become such a successful sith mob-lord by being a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next is a porny interlude involving a gift from Quigs, more vids and more possessiveness ¬‿¬ as always, your kind words mean the world to me


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, serious question, are you guys all involved in an active plot to kill me with comments, kudos, and kindness? because it feels like it? I love you? My typing hands are yours forevermore? Who needs sleep when I have you guys?
> 
> Also i had dreams of this chapter being a tidy, short 4k, and then this chapter went ¬‿¬ ¬‿¬ and decided to be 8 instead ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ so we absolutely obliterated 100k this evening and thats cool
> 
> Content includes an attempted threesome, some subdrop, possessive behaviour, return of the collar and lingerie, and aftercare.

After less than an hour on Nar Shaddaa Obi-Wan decided that he hated the place. It was loud and busy, and frankly even the upmarket areas that his master took him too were still seedy, an unpleasant feeling about them in the force that compelled Obi-Wan to sink his mind even more deeply into his master’s presence in the force than usual.

He felt his master’s amusement down their bond, but Qui-Gon welcomed him in easily, dropping his mental shields and drawing Obi-Wan into his mind as well as into his side as they walked. Qui-Gon murmured to him, teasing him as they made their way through the Corellian sector, a possessive arm around Obi-Wan’s middle as he stooped low to murmur in his ear, silly things about how pretty he looked, that Obi-Wan was sure he was only doing to bring a blush to his cheeks. 

They were drawing attention from nearly everyone they walked past who wasn’t so hopped up on some substance that they were barely conscious. Obi-Wan knew why, he knew what he looked like, and what everyone in the galaxy knew Qui-Gon was. He flushed hard when his master slipped his hand inside Obi-Wan’s shirts - this wasn’t his ship, after all - but he went no further, just nuzzled his nose against Obi-Wan’s warm cheeks while the people of Nar Shaddaa watched in disbelief. 

Of all things, his master took him shopping. It was not something Obi-Wan excelled at, he never knew what he wanted, preferred it when his master made these kinds of choices for him, it stopped him worrying about which outfit his master would prefer him in. He was lulled into a false sense of security as his master took him into boutiques full of expensive clothes and jewelry, that he didn’t notice until they were inside the shop, when he master then guided him into a shop filled to the brim with lingerie and sex paraphernalia.

“Ah ah ah,” his master said teasingly, catching Obi-Wan when he tried to flee from the shop, his cheeks already feeling like they were glowing red enough to light up the entire room. He turned Obi-Wan by his shoulders, crowded up behind his back, and steered him towards the section of the store reserved for _female_ lingerie. 

“Master!” Obi-Wan squeaked when he realised where they were heading, relieved at least when his master strode past the section of things made of black leather, and towards a display of soft white, pinks and blues. 

“Now pet, I want you to select a couple of things for yourself from here,” his master instructed, his hands running down Obi-Wan’s sides. “Things that you think are pretty, and would like to wear, not things you think I’d like.”

Obi-Wan bit at his lip anxiously, it was embarrassing just to be in this shop, even with his master urging him on. He looked at the display in front of him, there were lots of little negligees like his master had bought him - a babydoll, he’d called it - and he liked the way it made him look, soft and sweet. He stopped himself, when he realised he was reaching out to touch, to see if the fabric was the same, but then his master’s arm came alongside his own, cupped his hand in his own and reached Obi-Wan’s hand out the rest of the way. 

“You can touch, pet,” his master encouraged, only letting go of Obi-Wan’s hand when he gained some courage touching the gauzy material. 

Just like the one his master had bought him, he liked the way it felt in his hand, the flowy material, and he liked the nice, pale shade of blue it was in. Embarrassingly, he couldn’t actually _reach_ the hanger, and looked up at his master pleadingly. 

“This one, pet?” He asked, and Obi-Wan nodded his head as his master leaned over his shoulder, towering over him, and reached the lingerie down. “Yes, I think you will look quite lovely in this. Anything else?” 

Obi-Wan looked back to the displays, his eyes catching on another babydoll, this one such a light share of pink it was almost white, and at the front, the dress parted at the front, held together at the chest around the bralette, but otherwise parting at the sternum, and revealing the stomach and navel of whoever was wearing it. Worrying his lower lip, he pointed to that one as well, for his master to reach down, making him fizz with praise as he did so. 

Obi-Wan turned back to the displays again, his eyes catching this time on a different kind of lingerie, a lacy belt with delicate designs on it, that sat just below the belly button, and from it little straps that attached to long stockings, the entire ensemble a translucent white. It was different from the babydoll, more sexy, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he’d look silly in it. 

“What about this one, master?” He asked hesitantly, pointing, as if Qui-Gon wasn’t well aware of what he was looking at now. 

“You like this one too?” His master said, a note of surprise down their bond, making Obi-Wan apprehensive. 

“I don’t- maybe it wouldn’t look very nice on me,” Obi-Wan said, hunching a little until his master’s fingers slipped under his chin, and tilted his head up and to the side for a deep kiss. 

“Oh pet, you _will_ look lovely in it,” his master reassured, collecting up a set of those as well. 

“My favourite is still the one you got me,” Obi-Wan mumbled, cheeks red as his master handed his choices over to a worker doing her best to look entirely discreet. 

“Oh pet, I will still buy you plenty of gifts,” Qui-Gon teased, kissing the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth.

“I think I’m done,” Obi-Wan mumbled, embarrassed again as the shop assistant had checked the sizes with his master, who had looked him over as if he didn’t know exactly what size Obi-Wan was - his master bought him all his clothes, after all. 

“Are you sure, pet? Wouldn’t you like panties this time? Or do you like having that little cock of yours on display for me? I certainly don’t mind,” his master teased, Obi-Wan blushing hard when he realised he had forgotten, and how inexperienced and foolish he must look to the assistant. But his master poured affection down their bond, affection that Obi-Wan soaked up far more greedily than he should have. 

“No I… I want them I just...”

“You forgot, it’s okay,” his master cooed, nuzzling his proud nose against Obi-Wan’s red cheek and then kissing him there. He noticed, of course, when Obi-Wan fidgeted instead of picking out the panties. “Would you like me to choose them for you?”

“Yes please,” Obi-Wan replied, as his master inspected the layout of different styles of women’s panties, and selected a few pairs for Obi-Wan, to match the things he had picked out. “Can we go now?” Obi-Wan whispered as the assistant took the underwear as well to ring up. 

“Not yet,” his master replied, and Obi-Wan wondered what else his master could possible want in here, before he found himself steered towards the half of the shop displaying _sex toys_ and his master had to stop him bolting for the exit again. “Hush pet, it's not fair on you that I get to choose all the toys we play with.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Obi-Wan said emphatically, almost whimpering in his desperation to leave, the people in the store were stealing glances at them, at the famous Darth Avarus and the jedi padawan he had brought with him into a sex shop. There was no privacy for him here. 

“Don’t be shy, pet, you know I’m not going to let you leave until you pick some things you want to play with.”

“I don’t even know what any of this is,” Obi-Wan protested a little desperately, his master chuckled in his ear and kissed his blush, then his jaw, then the shell of his ear, and turned Obi-Wan’s attention to the plugs. “You know what those are, you little hole likes them very much” he smirked, before turning Obi-Wan’s gaze to an array of fake cocks made from various materials in various sizes. “And I am sure you can guess what you might do with some of these.”

“Master please,” Obi-Wan whispered, eyes filling with humiliated tears as he noticed a togruta taking a photo of him. Qui-Gon frowned, no doubt sensing the _wrong_ kind of embarrassment from Obi-Wan, and lifted his eyes to scan the store. 

“ _Leave_ ,” he said in a thunderous, commanding tone, the five customers that had been inside the establishment tripped over themselves to escape the dark feeling rolling off the sith in waves. The shop assistant wavered, clearly wanting to also bolt for the door. “Can she stay?” His master asked him, nodding his head towards the woman, Obi-Wan nodded shakily. “You may stay, but wait at the desk,” Qui-Gon instructed, and she did as she was asked, having the foresight to not face them either, a slight tremble in her shoulders. 

Obi-Wan knew, in his logical mind, that he should have disapproved from such a display, that as a jedi - a childish dream he just couldn’t pry his fingers from, no matter how far he drifted - he should scold Qui-Gon for such a use of the force, for frightening those people away, for costing the shop sales. But he didn’t. He couldn’t find it in himself to disapprove when his master’s actions had sent a warm shiver running through him, had made him feel so safe and cared for, so _important_ to his master, that he was practically drunk on the feeling. 

Besides, a jedi shouldn’t be in a sex shop in the first place. 

“Now, do you think you can pick out some things?” Qui-Gon asked, his voice softer, and it clearly was a request, if Obi-Wan wanted to leave this place now, he wouldn’t protest. But it was so much easier with no one but his master’s eyes on him, his hands soothing Obi-Wan’s shoulders. And if he was honest, and got past his own embarrassment, he could admit that he was a little excited by some of the things on display, so he nodded cautiously. “Good,” his master smiled.

Strong hands held Obi-Wan’s wasit possessively as he scanned the shelves, pulled back into his master’s chest, feeling so owned his eyes caught first on the array of collars, but none of them were as nice as the one his master had already bought for him. There were leashes alongside them, matching the colour of the various collars, and Obi-Wan blushed darkly just thinking about it, wondering if there would be any blood left in the rest of his body by the time he was done here. 

There were a lot of things he didn’t recognise stacked and displayed over the walls, things he wouldn’t even know how to begin to describe, let alone figure out how to use, and most he was scared to even ask about; loops of leather attached to long metal bars, some kind of swinging harness he didn’t understand, loops of fabric with silicon balls affixed to them. It was overwhelming in some ways, and he felt naive for not understanding more of what he was looking at. 

But then there were the things he knew - or could at least work out - and those he found exciting. He looked at the plugs first, he knew he liked them, and couldn’t help but think that the ones with ridges looked like they might feel nice, feel embarrassment curl in his stomach as he looked at one with a cute little tail attached to it for long enough that his master chuckled, and took one from the shelf, but he didn’t protest. 

“What’s this?” Obi-Wan asked timidly, pointing to an item near the plugs, but that was clearly different, a line of silicone with increasingly large balls spaced out along its length, a loop at the other end.

“They’re anal beads,” his master hummed, one of his hands travelling to Obi-Wan’s rear, and pushing down over his clothes against his hole. “I could make you take all of them inside your hole, and then pull them out slowly while I sucked that little cock of yours.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan squeaked, not knowing what he had expected and crowding into his master’s touch, made brave by the privacy glass in the windows of this particular shop. His master picked up those as well. Obi-Wan wondered if his master was going to collect everything he showed so much as a fleeting interest in, and then he wondered if that was a bad thing at all. 

His next selection was easier, he could tell what a pair of wrist cuffs might be for, and his cock twitched thinking of himself cuffed to the headboard of his master’s large bed, made to wait, or fucked while he was partially restrained. Qui-Gon smiled when he passed him the plain black pair he had reached for, praising him for his choice.

“Master?”

“Yes pet?” Qui-Gon murmured, nosing at his hairline and tugging on his braid. 

“Why would I want one of those?” Obi-Wan asked, nodding towards the fake cocks in various shapes, sizes, colours and materials. His master chuckled, and kissed his neck distractingly before reach out and picking up a pink one. 

“Well when I am not around you might like it. It isn't as nice as a real cock, but it does have it’s own tricks,” his master explained, pressing it into Obi-Wan’s hand and flicking a button at the base, Obi-Wan jumping and nearly dropping it when it began to vibrate and twist. His master laughed again, at his surprised little noise, turned off the toy and put it back. 

“No thank you,” Obi-Wan said, half due to his embarrassment from being so surprised, and half due to the way his cock was trying to fill, from imagining that intense vibration inside him. 

“Are you sure? I would like to get you a couple of vibrators, but perhaps not this one,” his master said, putting the toy back as asked and guiding Obi-Wan a couple of paces further down the display, picking up boxes displaying a slim plug, what looked like a silicon egg with a long tail, and a smaller metal cylinder, roughly the same shape as a primitive bullet.

“What are they?” Obi-Wan asked, unable to confine his curiosity, especially when his master was clearly waiting to be asked. 

“I am sure you can guess this one,” his master said, holding up the plug and flicking a button at the base, to make it vibrate. He held up the egg next, a modest size, especially when compared to his master’s cock. “This is similar, but a little different, it goes inside your little hole and vibrates, but what I like about this one, is that it’s remote controlled and has good range,” he explained, and Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, wondering why his master would need a _range_. 

“This one is a bullet vibrator. It’s usually made for women and their clits, but I think it would feel very nice up against your little cock and sac,” his master finished, Obi-Wan almost hard in his robes by the time he was done. 

“Master,” he whined, and Qui-Gon’s eyes flicked down his body knowingly. 

“Tsk tsk, getting hard in public padawan, that is very naught of you,” his master teased, voice low and doing nothing to help Obi-Wan. 

“Wanna leave,” Obi-Wan whined, he didn’t relish the thought of walking through the streets of Nar Shaddaa with a tent in his robes, but he should be able to use his cloak to cover it, and he knew his problem was only going to get worse, the longer they stayed here.

“Pick out one more thing, and then we can go,” his master replied, and Obi-Wan looked back at the displays, fidgeting. His master smiled at him when he reached out for a cock ring, a nice shade of pink that would match his pretty lingerie, instead of the black one he had. His hand faltered for a second as he noticed the ring he wanted was next to something being advertised as a chastity cage’ next to it, a picture of a soft cock trapped inside a metal cage. He flushed, trying not to think about the way his cock perked up in interest as he took the ring and look pointedly away from the cage. 

His master didn’t seem to have noticed, though Obi-Wan was suspicious as he felt amusement through their bond, but he was reaching for a leather riding crop hanging up higher on the shelves. He smiled at Obi-Wan as he ran the leather over his fingers, testing the give. 

“For when you’re particularly naughty, pet, I think you like getting spanked with my hand a little too much,” he teased. 

“I’m not naughty,” Obi-Wan mumbled, his blush feeling like it reached all the way down to his tummy, which was knotting itself with excitement. 

“Of course not pet,” his master agreed far too easily, and pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s pouting lips. 

His master paid for their things and to Obi-Wan surprise offered the woman a little extra money, for the custom she had lost, before then also threatening her, about sharing any security footage of his precious padawan. Again Obi-Wan should have been annoyed at the sith for threatening and scaring someone, but instead he just felt warm, _wanted_.

His master had some business to attend to after that, and let Obi-Wan accompany him, which had been surprising at first, but then Obi-Wan realised, halfway through a very boring meeting that seemed to be mainly posturing, that really he was being tortured, as he had nothing better to think about than the bags the droids had taken back to the ship, and what they were filled with. He tried to distract himself by focussing on his master, the way he dominated and commanded the room, the way he frightened the low lifes he was dealing with, but that only made his impatience worse. 

Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon controlled one of the largest hotels in the affluent districts of the city - or, whatever the equivalent of affluent was among criminals anyway - but he was still surprised when after the meeting, his master took him to the hotel, instead of back to the ship. He took Obi-Wan up to the penthouse, where a number of their things were waiting for them; including some of their purchases from that day, washed and ready for use, if they should desire it. 

“Would you like some dinner, pet?” His master asked, casually going to the kitchen, as if Obi-Wan hadn’t been overexcited for hours now. 

“Not really,” Obi-Wan pouted, which only made his master laugh, and continue to get ingredients out of a magically stocked fridge. 

“Are you sure? I think you might need your strength later,” he teased, butter already frying in the pan, filing the room up with a satisfying sizzling sound. 

In the end, Obi-Wan ended up sat in one of the stools at the kitchenette bar while Qui-Gon made them dinner. A first, he was fidgety and impatient, but soon he found himself mesmerised by his master’s simple movements, and the casual intimacy of his master preparing a meal for the pair of them. It made a warm feeling well up inside Obi-Wan’s tummy, that he didn’t full understand, but he was fairly sure he wasn’t supposed to feel for a sith. 

“Mmm,” Obi-Wan groaned unintentionally as Qui-Gon fed him a bite, his master grinning at him and kissing some sauce off his lips. 

“You approve, I take it?” He asked, and Obi-Wan nodded enthusiastically, shamelessly opening his mouth for a second bite, which his master gave him, watching him softly. 

“I didn’t know you could cook master,” Obi-Wan said when he had finished his bite, taking another when he finished speaking, adn Qui-Gon fed it to him, in between taking bites for himself. 

“I don’t do it often, but I do find it an enjoyable pursuit, when I have the time or inclination,” his master replied, popping another bite between Obi-Wan’s lips. 

It was really an impractical way to eat, and took them twice as long to finish, especially when desert was removed from the fridge, and chocolate truffles fed to him by hand, but Obi-Wan liked it. It was a relatively light dinner though, and by the time it was over Obi-Wan felt content, more than anything else. 

He couldn’t describe the feeling he got when his master fed him like this, but he knew it made him sink, made him feel soft and pliant for his master, and that he liked that too. 

“Come here pet,” his master said, reaching out and taking Obi-Wan’s hand, guiding him into the bedroom and needlessly - but comfortingly - helping him to sit on the end of the bed. “Take off your clothes for me, pet,” his master instructed, watching him appreciatively and helping him occasionally as he struggled out of his clothes, placing them neatly over the chair as his master preferred when he wasn’t the one ripping Obi-Wan’s clothes from him. 

“Lovely,” his master praised when he was naked, sitting him back down on the bed and trailing a finger from the hollow of his throat all the way down to the tip of his cock, already hard. 

After that his master went to his suitcase, laid neatly on the table in the room, and sorted through it for a moment, before leaving him sitting there, squirming with anticipation, as he left the room and came back with Obi-wan’s new pink babydoll, freshly washed by whatever droid had brought it here an a few other things Obi-Wan couldn’t see clearly in his hands. 

“Arms up,” his master instructed carefully putting the pretty dress over Obi-Wan’s head until it draped sweetly over his body. The dress parted at Obi-Wan’s sternum, just under the bralette, and it left a sweeping triangle of his stomach bare, the fabric coming to rest on his hips. 

Next his master handled his cock, stroking it a couple of times to make Obi-Wan whimper, before helping Obi-Wan into his new panties, Obi-Wan blushing at the way the head of his cock peaked out from the pretty lace, and his master chuckling lowly when he tried in vain to tuck his cock inside a bit better. 

Finally his master revealed his collar, with the little tag that read ‘ _pet_ ’, and fastened it around Obi-Wan’s eager neck. He checked the tightness, even though they were both familiar with it now, dipping two fingers between it and Obi-Wan’s skin. 

Obi-Wan felt light as soon as it was secured around his throat, and he wrapped his arms around his master’s neck, trying to get himself picked up, and grumble when his master’s didn’t do it. 

“Patience pet,” his master said, a smile in his tone as he kissed Obi-Wan’s lips. “You look so pretty like this will you let me film it again?” He asked - always asked, for that particular permission - and Obi-Wan flushed again, making his skin clash with the pink of his babydoll in a way that annoyed him more than it should have, even as he nodded his assent. 

His master kissed him and called him good before pulling the holocamera and tripod out of his suitcase, setting it up trained on the bed, the camera advanced enough that it tracked movement with its lens. It would be the sixth time his master had filmed them together, taking great pleasure in holding Obi-Wan on his lap and making him watch them back with him, his cock usually buried inside Obi-Wan’s hole before the holovid had finished playing. 

At first they’d embarrassed him so much he almost cried, even as his little cock got stiff in his master’s hand, but then he had been able to watch his master on the projector, his strong, proud body, and his master had talked him through the vid, showing him with praises of how good he looked with his cock stretching his mouth wide, now beautifully his spine curved when his master’s cock was deep in his hole, how pretty he was when he was covered in his master’s come. 

Watching them both back still embarrassed him, made him shy for how wantonly he behaved - and he was _always_ wanton, begging and whining for his master’s cock, spreading his legs with a hard little cock, made to come over and over again by his master - but he also liked watching them. They made him feel desirable, at least to his master, and they were a private thing between them, something they enjoyed together that belonged only to them. 

“I have a gift for you, pet,” his master murmured, when he was done setting up the camera, and Obi-Wan expected him to hand something to him, or perhaps reveal a toy or outfit he thought Obi-Wan would enjoy - that Obi-Wan _always_ enjoyed. But instead Obi-Wan found himself maneuvered onto his master’s lap, and his attention turned towards the door.

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked, nervous as the door opened and a scantily clad Twi’lek slunk into the room, waiting for a few moments at the foot of the bed, one hand on his hip, swaying slightly as he looked at Obi-Wan and Avarus with interest.

He was attractive, Obi-Wan supposed. His skin was a rich dark blue, his muscles were well defined but unintimidating, and his face was somewhere right in between pretty and handsome. His frame was bigger than Obi-Wan, but much smaller than his master, as most were. His headtails were long, the tips almost brushing the round swell of his ass, and he had a sensuality about him that Obi-Wan doubted he would ever master himself. 

Obi-Wan just didn’t understand why he was in the room at all. At least, not until his master beckoned the twi’lek closer, and settled a hand on his bare blue hip. Something in Obi--wan protested immediately, but he clamped down on it, unsure still what was happening, and afraid to tell his master that he didn’t want him to touch anyway else; Qui-Gon was _his_. Because his more reasonable mind understood that his master was a sith, that even if Obi-Wan wanted to be the only one that got to touch him, who was touched by him, didn't mean he could have it.

Obi-Wan didn’t think about it because it made him feel upset and unwell, he knew his master was welcome to touch anyone he liked. He could still be touching Xanatos for all Obi-Wan knew, and he dared not ask, for fear the answer might hurt him. But he longed to ask anyway, to beg his master not to touch anyone else, he would be good, he would learn how to do anything his master liked if it meant he could have him all to himself. 

“Kahdir here has come to join us, I thought he would make a lovely little treat for you, my sweet. Don’t you agree? Kahdir turn around for us, we want to see you,” his master explained, Obi-Wan tensing a little in his arms. He had only ever been with his master, he wasn’t sure how he felt about someone other than his master’s hands on him, but he was glad when Qui-Gon’s own hand released the twi’lek, and returned to petting Obi-Wan’s hip through the gauzy material of his pretty babydoll. 

Kahdir turned in a very slow half circle, showing off his body in a practiced way, and stopping when he was facing away to bend forward just slightly, showing off his ass, covered by a single thin strip of fabric that drew attention to the space between his cheeks, as much as it covered it. The twi’lek slapped his own behind, making it jiggle and Obi-Wan blushed, wondering if _he_ looked like that when his master spanked him. 

Obi-Wan tensed again, when his master reached out and unclipped the strip of fabric from the flimsy belt it was attached to, relieved when his master’s hand didn’t linger in any way, returning to toying with Obi-Wan’s lightly covered nipples as soon as he was done. Kahdir reached behind and spread himself. 

“Turn back to us, I am sure my sweet little padawan is far more interested in your cock, than your hole,” his master said, one hand underneath Obi-Wan’s babydoll, stroking the soft skin of his tummy, the other still toying with his nipples through the fabric. Obi-Wan knew he should be grateful for his gift, wanted to please his master in any way he could, but he didn’t know how to tell his master that he didn’t have any interest in the back or front of this stranger. 

Kahdir was smiling when he turned back to face them, removing his decorative belt entirely revealing his cock to them both dark blue and half hard. Obi-Wan liked it, with his master’s arms around him, his lips kissing at his neck and his hands trailing over his skin. He thought it would be exciting, maybe, his master was clearly enjoying it, his thick cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s bottom, and his master’s arousal ignited his own. His excitement was immediately replaced with disquiet when his master moved from the bed, but left Obi-Wan behind. 

“I think I’d like to watch you play, pet,” his master said, leaving Obi-Wan with a kiss, and settling an armchair. Kahdir started to slink over to his master, maybe to tease him before he turned to Obi-Wan on the bed, but Obi-Wan had no control over the unhappy, protesting noise that sneaked loudly passed his tightly closed lips as the twi’lek approached his master, who was unbuckling his pants. 

“Oh pet,” his master smirked, but he indulged Obi-Wan and motioned for the twi’lek to turn and go back to the bed as he got his hard cock out of his pants and started stroking himself as he watched Obi-Wan, giving him a hungry look as Obi-Wan turned to the twi’lek crawling along the bed to him, biting nervously at his lip. 

Kahdir kissed him, and Obi-Wan didn’t like it, he tasted wrong and his lips weren’t the right size and his chin was smooth, he felt rigid as a board and he felt relief wash over him when his master unexpectedly said from the chair ‘no kissing’ his voice gruff, stern. Obi-Wan hoped that it wasn’t because he had been so stiff and bad at it, his master had got him a gift and he was already ruining it, but mostly he was glad the twi’lek wasn’t kissing him anymore

Instead the twi’lek started nosing at his neck, his hand stroking down over Obi-Wan’s babydoll and plucking at his nipples, an action Obi-Wan knew he liked, his master did it to him all the time, but Kahdir’s touch didn’t make his nipples hard or zing little sparks of pleasure through him. 

His master was watching him intently, fisting his cock, and Obi-Wan thought maybe he was supposed to touch Kahdir too, but he was awkward with his hands, unsure when to put them and ending up petting at Kahdir’s headtails. The twi’lek seemed to like it, making an appreciative noise as he kissed his way down Obi-Wan’s chest. He licked over Obi-Wan’s nipple, making the chiffon wet against his soft nipple, and when Qui-Gon did that to him, Obi-Wan felt ready to come, but with growing embarrassment, Obi-Wan realised his cock was getting softer, the more the stranger touched him. 

He looked up to his master’s worried, it wasn’t that the things Kahdir was doing weren’t nice, they were, and his twi’lek’s hands were very soft and warm where they touched his skin. It was just. Obi-Wan didn’t understand why his master wasn’t touching him, he wanted his _master_ to touch him. But his master gave him an encouraging look and fisted his big cock.

His master had said this was a gift, and he only ever got Obi-Wan things he was supposed to enjoy, sweets and clothes and jewelry; things _everyone_ enjoyed. So perhaps this was something everyone else enjoyed too, and Obi-Wan should be enjoying it, he should be grateful, but instead he was doing everything wrong and his little cock was getting softer still and all he could think about Kahdir’s nice hands was that they _weren’t his master’s hands why wasn;t his master touching him why was he so far away had he done something wrong_. 

Obi-Wan felt his cock lose all of its remaining stiffness as Kahdir tried to cup him and when his other hand went to skate under his new panties around his hole, Obi-Wan whimpered. He whimpered a lot in bed with his master, happy, content and needy ones dripping from his open mouth, this one was strained, alarmed, and he didn’t like the sound, hoped his master wouldn’t notice the difference, he could still do this, he could still be good for his master. It was just, his master hadn’t touched him in his nice new panties yet. 

“Kahdir stop,” his master ordered suddenly, the twi’lek freezing immediately and pulling back from Obi-Wan’s skin, Obi-Wan relieved as soon as he did, whimpering again in relief this time, but also a new worry grew louder in him, his master had notice, he’d failed to accept a gift. “Are you okay, sweet one?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say yes, but that wasn’t what fell out from between his lips.

“Is something wrong with me?” Obi-Wan asked, a tremble in his voice as tears began to well in his eyes. He’d messed up his master’s gift, and his master clearly expected Obi-Wan to enjoy Kahdir before Obi-Wan’s stupid body had gone and messed it up, maybe there was something not right in him, maybe he was broken and - 

“Kahdir leave,” his master ordered firmly, sweeping over to the bed and lifting Obi-Wan into his lap as Kahdir quickly left the room. The door clicking closed made Obi-Wan cry harder, he really had ruined his master’s plans. “No pet, no, listen to me.”

“But you gave me a gift and I tried to like it, but I ruined it! You were being nice and I ruined it! I just don’t like it when anybody else touches me, I’m sorry master, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologise to me,” his master said, voice firm, he opened their bond entirely, and wrapped his comforting force presence around Obi-Wan’s, adding another layer to their embrace that at least slowed Obi-Wan’s tears. “I made a mistake, not you. It was my miscalculation not yours. You’ve done nothing wrong pet, nothing at all, and I should have asked before doing this, I got caught up in the idea of surprising you.

“There is nothing wrong with you. I thought you would enjoy me watching you, and that I would enjoy getting to watch you play under my instruction, but do you know what I liked _far, far_ more than that?”

“No?” Obi-Wan replied, annoyed at himself for not knowing the answer when his master had asked him a question, he needed to do better. 

“I liked watching your cock get soft, I liked watching you lookin at _me_ instead of that other person. I liked that you didn’t want him, pet. I like that you only want me,” he said, voice getting dark and inviting, more intoxicating than any drug lurking the Nar Shaddaa. “I should have noticed something was wrong sooner, I’m so sorry pet.”

“I didn’t - it wasn’t bad, he had nice hands I just, I just don’t understand why you didn’t want to touch me,” Obi-Wan said, a sob rising back up in his voice and his master squeezed him so tightly it was hard to breath, chasing away the sobs that were building and calming Obi-Wan again. 

“Oh pet no, I did want to touch you, I always want to touch you. This was only supposed to be a game, a different way for me to play with your lovely body, just like when I put a plug in that lovely hole of yours and make you wait to have me.”

“You- you did want to touch me?” 

“Yes padawan.”

“I don’t want to try it again,” Obi-Wan admitted, cuddling into his master’s embrace, he felt small, impossibly so, but the thoughts that were normally soft like clouds around him in this state now felt like they sparked with lightning. . 

“We won’t, pet, I will never let anyone else touch you again,” his master said, and Obi-Wan relaxed before he continued at a low, low rumble, a dark possessive note that made the force turn additive and powerful. “You’re mine, and mine alone, and no one else will _ever_ have you.” His master promised him, pressing biting kisses against Obi-Wan’s neck and not stopping until all traces of his tears were gone. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked anxiously as his master nipped at his ear, and he tried to burrow closer into that comforting embrace.

“Yes, pet?”

“If I...If I practiced and got really good at everything you liked, would it be okay if you only touched me too,” Obi-Wan asked, unable to look in his master’s eyes, staring instead at the sharp line of his jaw, and picking at the blanket and chewing at his lip.

“Obi-Wan,” his master said, catching his chin and making him meet his eyes, Obi-Wan bracing himself, so sure he was about to get told off for making demands of his master, for thinking too much of himself, or even for being so possessive when he was trying to be a jedi. But he got none of that. “I have not touched another since the first night you came to my bed. You have stolen my interest entirely, no one else could satisfy me, now that I’ve had you.”

His master’s words filled him up, made him feel warm and safe, chased away most of the remaining tears, but still some insecurities clung to Obi-Wan, and he worried still. 

“But Kahdir…” Obi-Wan trailed off, thinking of the way the twi’lek had gone towards him, his master’s cock hard as he reached out for blue hips. 

“He was a toy we were playing with. I found him arousing in the same way I find a plug buried in your perfect ass so alluring. I would never choose his touch over yours.”

“I-I’m not very good yet,” Obi-Wan stammered, feeling heat returning to his cheeks as his master’s hands ran over his skin possessively. “But I’ll get better I promise,” he said, knowing he had to satisfy his master or it was unfair of him to ask what he had. He shivered, when his master growled at him, moving from cupping his chin to cradling his entire face in big hands. 

“You are perfect as you are, Obi-Wan. Your innocence now is as intoxicating as your experience will be when you gain it. I will never want another, and I will never let anyone else touch you again, my pet, and if anyone should try, I will _tear them apart_ ,” his master swore, and Obi-Wan felt his entire body tremble with the force of his master’s conviction. It helped to chase away from of the sharp edges in Obi-Wan’s mind, but not all of them, and he remembered his master telling him clearly, more than once, that if his thoughts got bad when he was like this he had to tell him. 

“Master?”

“Hmm?” His master hummed, pressing kisses to Obi-Wan’s temple that were helping to blunt some of the sharpness. 

“I don’t feel good. In my head, and you said, you said- ”

“I said you must tell me if that happened, good boy pet, you’re such a good boy for telling me,” his master praised, and it helped a little, but mostly he just wanted more conact, wanted to chase away that lurking thought that his master hadn’t wanted to touch him, that he couldn’t satisfy his master, that he didn’t want Obi-Wan anymore, just like the jedi had not wanted him in the end either. “Would you like to take a bath?”

“N-no I don’t think so,” Obi-Wan said, gnawing at his lip, he thought he knew what would make him feel better. 

“A little food, perhaps?”

“No I- ” Obi-Wan started nervousness gripping him, insecurities gnashing viciously at his heels when Qui-Gon didn’t offer, but he forced himself to press on. “Would you, would you take me, master?”

“Are you sure, pet? It might not be a good idea, when you feel like this,” his master replied, wary, Obi-Wan felt himself trembling, tears trying to come back as his mind interpreted it as rejection, even though logically he knew that wasn’t what Qui-Gon had said. “It’s okay, pet, I’m here, talk to me,” his master soothed as he began to cry again, relieved his master didn’t tell him to stop crying, he wouldn’t have been able to and failing him again would have made it worse.

“It’s just. I want to feel you, I want you to make the bad feeling saying that you don’t want to touch me anymore to go away and- and I think that might help,” he managed, his master listening to him as he spoke between sniffles. “But if you don’t want to that’s okay, I’ll be okay I understand I’m - “

“Oh pet, I always want you,” his master replied, nuzzling his face and kissing up tears. 

They just kissed for so long that Obi-Wan started to worry he had been rejected again, but then his master’s hands started roaming his skin, petting at his bottom with one hand as he called for the slick with the other. He kept Obi-Wan in his lap as he dipped his fingers inside his panties and fingered him slowly, thoroughly, asking him between deep, lingering kisses if he was alright, checking over and over that he wasn’t dropping even further. It made Obi-Wan feel safe, as if his master was reaching down into the place Obi-Wan had dropped, and was gently lifting him back out again. 

Obi-Wan lost track of time as his master fingered him with two fingers, then three, then four. It skipping past him between his master’s possessive lips, the free hand holding the back of his neck controlling, pinning Obi-Wan to him, Obi-Wan’s cock hard and leaking over his pretty pink panties, cockhead peeking out the top embarrassingly. The tattooed fingers inside him were reaching deep, pushing little moans out of Obi-Wan’s lips, his tears finally dried up, and his master rubbed at his prostate until Obi-Wan came with a surprised gasp, pulling at his master, as if to climb closer. 

“So pretty, so perfect in your sweet little babydoll.”

“I made it all dirty,” Obi-Wan noticed, but before he could fixate on it, his master was kissing him again. 

“I like it even more like that,” his master reassured, he went to slip his fingers out from Obi-Wan’s hole, but Obi-Wan made a plaintive, desperate sound and he stopped, holding them buried deep inside him instead. “Would you still like me to fuck you, pet?” His master asked, carefully not moving his fingers, not wanting to overstimulate Obi-Wan right now, even if he usually enjoyed it, and Obi-Wan was relieved, wanted to just stay there, with his master inside him, for as long as he could.

“Yes please,” Obi-Wan mumbled into his master’s chest, shivering when his master’s squeezed the back of his neck approvingly. His master didn’t move at first, but his fingers stayed inside him, so Obi-Wan was content to just stay cuddled in his arms. But his master knew his body even better than he did by now, and when Obi-Wan’s hypersensitivity from his orgasm had just faded his master started to move his fingers again. 

Little noises fell from Obi-Wan’s lips as his master stretched his loose hole even more thoroughly, before slicking his cock, leaving Obi-Wan empty for as short a time as possible before he helped him out of his panties and started to guide Obi-Wan down on his thick cock. The stretch was intense, always was when he hadn’t been plugged first, and it burned a little, tears pricking at his eyes again, but these were the tears that he liked as he accommodated his master, pleased him in his carnal way. 

His master settled him in his lap, his cock hard and Obi-Wan could feel his master’s strained control as he stayed still and let Obi-Wan’s body adjust. His master reached out through their bond, drawing Obi-Wan into his mind and showing him through the force just how much he wanted him, let Obi-Wan feel his desire in a way that roared loudly enough to send the sharp thoughts harassing him scattering out of his mind. 

He changed their positions then, laying Obi-Wan down on the bed and holding im close as he fucked into him slowly and deep, so much so that fucking felt like the wrong word for it, but Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what other words to use, and was soon distracted from the thought by his master grinding his thick cock into his sweet spot. They stayed slow, moving slower than ever before but entirely inexorably towards their climax, Qui-Gon tangling their minds together so tightly that Obi-Wan wasn;t sure if it was even his own crest building, or his master’s. 

His legs were wrapped around his master’s waist, his master’s face buried in his neck, sucking possessive marks into the skin there as emotion flowed freely between them, the intensity of it should have been terrifying, and Obi-Wan regretted that his mind was too slow and foggy to sort through everything from Qui-Gon that he could feel, instead being entirely engulfed by the multi-faceted desire his master held for him and not trying to sort through it.

Obi-Wan came first, but with their wide open bond, it triggered his master’s as well, and Obi-Wan moaned with relief and pleasure as he spilled himself, and felt his master pulsing inside of him. 

His master called a washcloth with the force and cleaned Obi-Wan’s stomach, before pulling out of Obi-Wan carefully, and too soon after his orgasm, not getting the usual time Obi-Wan craved with his master’s cock inside him, before he insisted on pulling out and cleaning them both up. 

“No,” Obi-Wan whimpered pathetically, apparently not yet completely back to himself, still feeling hazy, but swimming through far less negativity.. 

“Shh pet, only for a moment,” his master comforted, gently taking off Obi-Wan’s babydoll and rolling Obi-Wan onto his side, and spooning up behind him as they preferred to sleep, before taking hold of his gradually softening cock, and pressing back inside Obi-Wan’s sloppy hole, still hard enough that he was able to bury himself in Obi-Wan’s ass. 

He felt immediately better, realising his master intended to let him sleep like this, a rare treat that had Obi-Wan wiggling back, making content noises in the back of his throat as he settled down. 

“Better?” His master asked, voice brimming with so much affection Obi-Wan wondered if he could get drunk on it, wondered if he already was. 

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan sighed happily, eyes fluttering shut and started to drift.

His master murmured something to him, nosing at his hair, but Obi-Wan was slipping fast into unconsciousness, and couldn’t catch the words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in friday for some smut, some conflict, and the sort of calm before a bit of a storm (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> Oh and the crop will feature in a kink week fill, not the main body of the story here, so you win if you were hoping for the crop and you win if you were going oh pls no crop that's not my jam lynn


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys the end of this chapter fought me so goddamn hard ;__; but we made it before 3am so I'm calling it a win. 
> 
> Once again, your comments, I'm running out of ways to say it, but they mean the absolute world to me, and are most of the reason why I am able to write so fast <3
> 
> Warning for: very possessive behaviour, possessive/rough sex, spanking, comeplay, collar, mild breathplay

One of the simple pleasures Qui-Gon had grown to enjoy over the last few months, was watching his padawan sleep. Obi-Wan was already soft and sweet before he had the assistance of sleep, enhancing all of those features, his red mouth slightly open, snoring so quietly it was almost a purr that blended in with the quiet whirring of the ship. 

Qui-Gon had moved to sit up in the bed since waking, and Obi-Wan had curled unconsciously further into Qui-Gon’s warmth, his face mashed into Qui-Gon’s hip, one arm slung over qui-Gon’s legs. Unwilling to leave his padawan just yet, and with nothing to see to today that wouldn’t keep until later, Qui-Gon had decided to indulge himself, and watched Obi-Wan sleep. 

His hair was messy from the way he fidgeted around in bed all night, no matter how tightly Qui-Gon held him, and his braid was coming loose, one of the beads Qui-Gon had bought for it looking precariously close to slipping free. Qui-Gon used the force to secure the bead a little better, knowing such a small trinket would be a nightmare to find if it got lost in his large bed. 

Obi-Wan mumbled sleepily at the light brush of the force, and wriggled further into Qui-Gon’s space, huffing his warm breath against the thin material of Qui-Gon’s sleep pants as he did. Qui-Gon smiled fondly, carding his fingers through Obi-Wan’s smooth, strawberry blond hair, running a finger over the curve of Obi-Wan’s ear, knowing his padawan liked it. Predictably, his padawan nuzzled into the hand, making content little sounds that made something inside Qui-Gon _ache_.

The ache didn’t abate as Obi-Wan continued to shuffle around, still soundly asleep and looking so very small and _good_ next to Qui-Gon, that the feeling turned darker, more desperate in Qui-Gon’s chest. Desperate to protect his padawan, to make him happy, to give him anything, everything he wanted, to _keep_ him, safe and all to himself. Obi-Wan was _his_ , and no one would ever take him away from Qui-Gon; not Sidious, and not the jedi. He would slaughter anyone who tried. 

Obi-Wan made an unhappy sound, face scrunched up into a cute frown, and Qui-Gon realised that his darker thoughts were leaking through their bond and brushing up against Obi-Wan’s sleeping mind. He reeled himself in quickly, using meditative techniques Dooku had taught him back when they were still part of the order, but Qui-Gon had found still had use, for the times he was interested in controlling his emotions. 

His sleeping padawan registered the change instantly, his features smoothing out and relaxing, lips pulled up slightly at the corners. Obi-Wan’s mind was entirely open when he slept, Qui-Gon had helped him through a few lessons learning how to shield his mind if he wanted to, hating the idea of Obi-Wan doing it to him, but knowing it could protect him from other force users, if he ever came into contact with them. But like this, asleep and with their bond strong and practically humming between them, Obi-Wan was an open book to him. 

The bond was not a training one, of that Qui-Gon was certain, although he hadn’t told his padawan yet. Obi-Wan was affectionate with his action and driven by his desire for touch - a need he had denied himself for far too long - from someone he trusted, but he was still reserved with his words. Qui-Gon could feel the way Obi-Wan practically overflowed with passion and warmth for him, but also knew how his padawan still struggled; Qui-Gon was a sith, and his padawan still harboured dreams of being a jedi.

But in recent weeks, those bouts of confusion, conflict and discord in his padawan had lessened, become more infrequent, less prolonged when he could feel that strife in his padawan’s thought. So he planned to tell him today, so let his padawan share in the knowledge that what they had was far more than the bond shared between a master and their apprentice. 

He was not certain beyond that; a lovers bond was the most likely, but selfishly Qui-Gon thought of a soul bond, and felt something possessive building up inside him. A bond strong enough to bind them together in the force more completely, so that Obi-Wan would never be out of his reach, not even if an entire galaxy stood between them - not that Qui-Gon would _ever_ permit that to happen. 

He would have to be patient to learn precisely which creed of bond they were forming, but his access to his padawan’s mind was too complete, too deep and thick for it to be a simple training bond. He didn’t know how Obi-Wan would react, but he had been happy to learn they had formed a bond at all, blushed and smiled around the lip he was perpetually biting, and Qui-Gon had felt his happiness as clearly as his own. 

In his sleep, Obi-Wan squirmed closer to Qui-Gon again and he grinned as his padawan hooked one of his legs over Qui-Gon’s and started rutting against him sleepily, pushing his hardening little cock against Qui-Gon, the lace panties he was still wearing creating a rougher friction. Qui-Gon chuckled lowly, letting a hand drop to his padawan’s back and run his fingertips over the bare skin there, bedding pushed down to his padawan’s hips, a flash of pale blue lace showing.

Qui-Gon felt his own interest growing, wondered if his pet was still loose and wet from the night before and let his hand trail down Obi-Wan’s back and over the enticing swell of his ass until he found his hole, dipping a finger inside, his cock filling as he found his padawan sloppy still; stretched and still wet with Qui-Gon’s come from the night before. 

Obi-Wan mumbled sleepily, but continued snoring, and Qui-Gon wondered what his pet was dreaming about, it had to be nice to keep him wrapped up in it, even when he slipped a second finger into Obi-Wan’s hole alongside the first - he was loose enough still that Qui-Gon was fairly sure he could press four fingers inside without Obi-Wan even getting the hard stretch he knew his padawan liked. But doing so was sure to wake him, and Qui-Gon was curious to see what had his pet so intently asleep. 

Relaxing his mind, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and let the bond between them stretch out in front of him, visualising the link between them as a strong braid, with light and dark strands wrapping around each other over and over again. He followed its path to Obi-Wan’s mind, wide open in his vulnerable unconscious state, and when Qui-Gon brushed his awareness up against Obi-Wan’s, it was as if his padawan’s force signature reached out for him greedily, and pulled him in more fully. 

Sinking inside his pet’s mind was always a nearly overwhelming sensation, Qui-Gon was no longer a light side user, but stepping inside Obi-Wan’s mind was to be engulfed in it. He hadn’t felt so surrounded by that much light energy since before he left the temple; and for all it was light, there was something intoxicating about that too, though Qui-Gon imagined that had more to do with the way Obi-Wan pressed up so warmly against him in the fore, welcomed him in and reached out unabashedly for comfort. 

Qui-Gon let himself bask in the feeling for a few moments, luxuriating in the feeling of Obi-Wan wrapped around him, before he started to move through Obi-Wan’s mind. It was easy, nothing like his experience of entering minds before this, where before he was fought tooth and nail, Obi-Wan drew him in eagerly; where was used to brute forcing his way into a mind that he held no connection with, the bond acted like a familiar key. 

He frowned however, at what he found in Obi-Wan’s dreams. As the image came into focus, Qui-gon smiled, seeing himself leading Obi-Wan through a series of katas, tinged by the incoherency of dreams, but when the image solidified, Qui-Gon saw the differences. Gone were his yellow eyes, replaced with a kind blue; gone were his black robes and cloak, replayed by beige and tan; and gone was his red saber, replaced with one that glowed green. 

Qui-Gon’s happy mourning mood turned sour, feeling immediately as though a storm cloud were drawing over him, as he watched this jedi version of himself put his hands on Obi-Wan and help him with forms that Obi-Wan knew well. Was this what his padawan wanted? Even now, after so long together? Was he still told so tight to these misguided dreams of being a jedi. 

Did he wish Qui-Gon were like the man in his dreams, unkempt around the edges, and chained to the light and the order, _repressed_ ? Did Obi-Wan spend his waking hours pining for a version of Qui-gon that would never be, waiting for him to visit him in his dreams, when Obi-Wan was still sated from the _real_ him. 

He watched Obi-Wan laugh as his dream, jedi-self tickled his padawan and Qui-gon felt himself grit his teeth; _he could never satisfy you_ , he thought, _he is without passion and without emotion, and we both know you crave both_. One of his hands fisted, growing more agitated with every second of the dream that he watched, and as if prompted by Qui-Gon’s though, swimming unbidden now in Obi-Wan’s head, the scene morphed before him, and Qui-Gon felt his anger mount further, shifting to a barely defined bed, and Obi-Wan spread out upon it, while his jedi-self thirst into him.

Qui-Gon felt his nostrils flaring as he watched the wrong version of himself touch his padawan, balanced on all fours in front of him. He barely had the patience to examine the lovely curse of Obi-Wan’s back as he heard him crying out for his master in the dream, arousal and _longing_ spreading down their bond as Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan rut a little more desperately into his leg in the waking world. 

His dream self - this jedi imposter - was fucking into Obi-Wan hard, gripping his hips tightly; hips which in this dream were creamy and clear, but Qui-Gon knew were really smudged with bruises in the shape of his fingers from nights gone by. Was his padawan really so deluded about the jedi? Did he really think that any jedi would ever fuck their padawan, when they were busy starving everyone in that godforsaken temple of touch from the first day they snatched them up? 

“Master, I- I lo-” Obi-Wan’s dream self started to pant, and Qui-Gon wrenched himself from the dream, filling with anger and jealousy at a version of himself that didn’t exist. Some fictitious phantom able to claim words from Obi-Wan’s lips so easily that Qui-Gon himself - Qui-Gon as he _really_ was - had not yet heard with his own ears. But that other version of himself didn’t exist, and Obi-Wan was _his_ , and he would not let him be seduced by some fantasy he was having in a dream. 

Qui-Gon threw the covers of the bedding off them both with a barely contained snarl and generous use of the force, revealing Obi-Wan’s soft little body to him. Obi-wan made a plaintive sound at the cold air, but Qui-Gon was barely listening to him, moving himself to kneel behind Obi-Wan and grab him by the hips, laying his fingers over the most recently laid bruises, still tender, and gripping hard. Obi-Wan moaned, but stayed unconscious, and Qui-Gon growled, feeling his fingers dig in even tighter as his padawan still chose that other self over Qui-Gon. 

Qui-Gon slicked four of his fingers, pulled Obi-Wan’s pretty blue panties aside roughly, and pressed them all inside Obi-Wan’s still loose hole without a pause. He sunk them in to the last knuckle and letting out a feral smile when Obi-Wan wailed, his eyes snapping open as Qui-Gon pressed hard at his prostate. 

“M-mas-ter?” Obi-Wan said around loud, surprised moans as Qui-Gon stretched him perfunctorily, not interested in hurting his padawan in a way he _didn’t_ enjoy, even with the way the dark was practically leeching off his skin. 

“Quiet,” Qui-Gon ordered, voice a low growl, pleased when Obi-Wan immediately did as he was told, rocking back against Qui-Gon’s fingers as he got himself up on all fours. Qui-Gon felt his anger spike, looking at the perfect padawan beneath him, greedily sucking in four of his fingers, and realising that this was no different to what that edi had been doing to him in his dream. He needed it to be different, clearly his padawan needed a reminder that Qui-Gon was _not_ a jedi, and never would be. 

With a precise use of the force, Qui-Gon reached out to the wardrobe, swung open the doors hard, making them clatter against the walls, and called Obi-Wan’s collar to his waiting palm. He pulled his fingers out of Obi-Wan’s greedy hold and wiped them carelessly on his padawan’s pale skin so that he could take hold of the things held aloft by the force. 

Obi-Wan jerked in surprise when Qui-Gon wrapped the collar around his neck, before settling into the sensation, moaning liberally when Qui-Gon did it up more tightly than usual. Qui-Gon gripped Obi-Wan’s neck harder than he needed to, his cock throbbing at the way his pet melted into the dangerous touch, the way he moaned loudly when Qui-Gon decided to tighten it one more notch, watching as the leath started to bite into Obi-Wan’s skin, his pet still able to breathe freely, but the collar begging to be noticed and remembered every time he did. 

“Master are you, _ah_!” Obi-Wan’s question broke off into a wail as Qui-Gon brought his hand down on his ass with a crack, hard enough to make Obi-Wan’s entire ass jiggle. “Master!” He cried out, and Qui-Gon spanked him hard again over the other cheek. 

“I said _quiet_ , you may speak when spoken to, otherwise the only sounds I want to hear from you are your slutty little moans,” Qui-Gon growled, and Obi-Wan whimpered, his cock spurting precome that dripped down onto the sheets and made a mess. 

“Why?” Obi-Wan whimpered, voice thick and hot with arousal, and they both knew he had only spoken because he _wanted_ to be spanked again, and Qui-Gon considered whether he needed a more effective form of punishment for his padawan. Despite knowing his padawan’s motivations, Qui-Gon spanked him hard again for his insolence, five times in quick succession until his pale ass was bright red, having held very little back with the strength of his slaps. 

Obi-Wan was lost, wailing out, tears already clinging to his pretty lashes and precome drooling down from his cock and onto the bedding. Obi-Wan whined helplessly as Qui-Gon grabbed him by the waist and set him back up on his hands and knees, his pet having crashed into the bedding on the third smack. Obi-Wan reached back with one of his hands, groping at Qui-Gon’s hip, trying to pull him closer; and Qui-Gon spanked him twice more, before reaching with the force for the cuffs he kept in the drawer. 

Keeping Obi-Wan on his knees, Qui-Gon roughly secured a on of the supple leather cuffs around each of Obi-Wan’s wrists as his padawan looked up at him with big wet eyes, still sniffling softly as his ass stung. Qui-Gon looped the long chain around part of the headboard, when he got his pet back into the position he wanted, there would be just enough length on the chain for Obi-Wan to rest with his face buried in the bedding with his arms outstretched in front of him. 

Obi-Wan looked at him beseechingly, forced to twist to see him as his arms were restrained to the headboard now, he was chewing his lower lip in that habit of his that kept it always red and wet, and his green eyes were nearly black with arousal even as they begged for something sweeter. Qui-Gon was angry at how easily he relented, diving in to kiss his padawan as he so clearly wanted, but it was biting and he devoured Obi-Wan, biting hard at his lips and fucking his tongue into his mouth, until Obi-Wan looked dizzy with submission by teh time he was done. 

He moved back behind Obi-Wan, pulling him back by the hips until his pet was forced face-first down into the bedding to keep his balance, a lovely line running from his ass, down his spine and long his arms to the very tips of his fingers. His ass was in the air, and Qui-Gon admired the red that was glowing there as he poured slick onto his hand and fisted his cock.

Obi-Wan whimpered when Qui-Gon pressed the tip of his cock against Obi-Wan’s hole, stretched far enough to be able to take him; but not easily, and as Qui-Gon pushed his way inside him, Obi-Wan let out a wail that he was certain they would hear down the halls of the ship. Good. Obi-Wan felt divine around his cock, a velvet vice around him, hot and wet and yielding for him so keenly it was addictive, Qui-Gon was addicted to the way his body reacted to him. Obi-Wan tried to push back against him, but the cuffs took away all of his leverage, and Qui-Gon spanked him again for the attempt.

“So fuking greedy,” he growled, digging his fingers back into Obi-Wan’s hips as he ground his cock inside him, only giving him a few seconds to adjust before pulling out and slamming back inside him. Obi-Wan moaned, turning his head to the side on the pillow and Qui-Gon could see the way his mouth was hanging over in a desperate pant, making Qui-Gon wish he could stuff both of his holes at once without the need for toys. “You need to remember who you master is.”

Qui-Gon fucked Obi-Wan hard, holding nothing back as he pounded into his padawan’s tight heat, drawing back far enough with each thrust that only the head of his cock stayed inside his greedy little hole, so reluctant to let Qui-Gon out entirely, before fucking his entire thick length back inside him. 

Obi-Wan panted, his arms forced to pull on the cuffs as Qui-Gon held onto his hips and dragged him back against his cock with every forward push he made, and Obi-Wan barely stopped moaning long enough to breathe as he was relentlessly pounded into the mattress, chasing more and more of that perfect heat around his cock. He wanted to mark Obi-Wan up, he wanted to cover him in his come and bruises from his fingers and bites from his teeth. He wanted to scrawl across Obi-Wan’s skin every way that he could that Obi-Wan was _his_ and his alone, and he wouldn’t even permit some imagined version of himself what was rightfully his. 

He was using Obi-Wan’s helpless body, controlled by Qui-Gon’s large hands on his hips and the cuffs on his wrists, to chase his own pleasure, and as he fucked into his padawan, he heard him cry out loudly, his body tightening and then releasing, going lax and pliant as Obi-Wan came with a near-violent shudder, his come striping across the sheets. 

With a snarl, Qui-Gon used a flick of the force to unhook the cuff chain from the headboard, and hauled Obi-Wan’s into his lap, burying his cock even deeper and making him wail with it, new tears slipping down his cheeks as his newly sensitive body was fucked even deeper, Qui-Gon not pausing for a second. 

“I didn’t tell you you could come,” Qui-Gon said with a low voice, feeling Obi-Wan’s shiver as his hands grew tighter. “You’re desperate and greedy, and no one is ever going to fuck you as well as I do. Leave me for the jedi, and you’re needy hole will never have a cock in it again, do you think you could manage that pet? A lifetime without cock, without _my_ cock,” he growled, and Obi-Wan cried out again, wiggled back against him as he shook his head wildly, practically screaming through the bond that he wanted his cock, he wanted him, he wanted him. It was better than any drug Qui-Gon had taken, more heady than the darkside, made him feel more powerful than anything else ever had. 

With his hands still cuffed together Obi-Wan was at his mercy, leaning back against his chest for balance while Qui-Gon’s large hands held his hips and fucked into him hard. He moved one possessive hand, dark with tattoos, from Obi-Wan’s hip and lay it below his navel, pressing down hard and growling when he could feel his cock moving inside Obi-wan’s body. 

“I can feel myself inside you pet, no one is ever going to satisfy you now, are they?” Qui-Gon purred, Obi-Wan whimpering as Qui-Gon pushed against his lower stomach and rubbed his hand through Obi-Wan’s come as he continued to pound into him and feel for his own cock. “I told you to speak when spoke to,” Qui-Gon warned when Obi-Wan failed to answer, giving him one particularly brutal thrust as the hand not feeling for his own cock moved from Obi-Wan’s hip all the way up his chest until it sat snug under his collar and he squeezed.

“No, no master! Only you, I swear, only you!” Obi-Wan gasped when Qui-Gon let him breathe again, wailing and losing precious air as Qui-Gon tightened his grip again. His hand was pressing against the tag, digging it into Obi-Wan’s skin, and he found himself hoping that it left an indent, another mark on his padawan that was his. 

“That’s right, you’re mine,” Qui-Gon growled, wrapping a cruel hand around Obi-Wan’s soft, spent cock and stroking it in a firm grip as Obi-Wan wailed, body spasming as it didn’t know if it desperately needed more of the touch, or desperately needed less. 

“Yous! Yours master, yours!” Obi-Wan cried, shivering in Qui-Gons hold and jerking every time he fucked his cock inside that perfect hole.

“I’m going to leave you so drenched in my come and covered in my marks that no one will ever question who you belong to,” he panted, feeling his orgasm building in his cock as he fucked into him hard enough that his balls slapped obscenely against Obi-Wan’s sweaty skin on every thrust. 

“Oh please, please master. I want- I want that, I want to be yours!” Obi-Wan moaned, whining out answer when Qui-Gon kissed at his neck with uncareful teeth and rough lips, sucking and biting hard to stain the white column of his throat, leave it awash with dark colour. 

When he felt ready to come, Qui-Gon pulled out of Obi-Wan’s hole and let go of his newly hard cock, leaving Obi-Wan crying out against two different lost sensations. But Qui-Gon didn’t give him time to adjust, and threw Obi-Wan down onto the bedding on his back, straddling his stomach and stroking his thick cock in a hard grip over Obi-Wan’s face, his pet blinking up at his master a few times before understanding drew over his features and he greedily opened his mouth and closed his eyes. 

With half a dozen strokes, Qui-Gon felt his orgasm crash over him, grunting and closing his eyes briefly as he came, forcing them open again to make sure he painted Obi-Wan’s face, a couple of stripes of his come landing across his mouth, and sending the rest more messily over his face. He pressed the fat tip of his cock against Obi-Wan’s white-painted lower lip as he squeezed the last drops of his come from his cock, Obi-Wan’s tongue coming out and lapping it up. 

Qui-Gon moved again, even in his post-orgasmic haze, and hauled Obi-Wan back up into his lap. He kissed him fiercely, pushing the come from his lips into Obi-Wan’s mouth with his tongue, tasting them both together as he fucked he’s spend into his mouth. Obi-Wan loved this, shivered in Qui-Gon’s arms as he did it. He pulled back, moved to Obi-Wan’s cheek and collected more of his come on his tongue and fed Obi-Wan that as well. He used two fingers on the rest, scooping up the come on Obi-Wan’s face and pressing it into his mouth, Obi-Wan greedily sucking on his fingers every time as he gulped down Qui-Gon’s come. 

His pet suckling on his fingers always made Qui-Gon feel both hot and soft from his sweetness and now was no exception as Obi-Wan’s mouth rhythmically sucked on his digits, long after they were clean of come. But as the initial warmth of his orgasm receded, his ferocious, possessive feeling seeped back into his bones. He looked at Obi-Wan, and knew that he wasn’t done yet, hadn’t had his fill, hadn’t _made his point_ yet. 

He let Obi-Wan suckle for a little longer, waiting until Obi-Wan’s greedy mouth on his fingers started to make his cock fatten again, Obi-Wan’s own staying hard and wet against his stomach. He started fucking his fingers more deeply into Obi-Wan’s mouth, and his content, greedy noises changed into more desperate moans. One of his delicate little hands fell to Qui-Gon’s cock, the movement awkward with the cuffs binding his two hands so closely together. 

Qui-Gon groaned low in his throat as Obi-Wan’s hand stroked at him, toying with the head of his cock. He knew what his pet wanted, to be left to suck on Qui-Gon’s cock for was long as he wanted, but this wasn’t about Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon indulged him often enough. 

He pulled his fingers from Obi-Wan’s mouth and manhandled him again, putting his pet on his back and spreading his legs wide, marvelling for a moment at just how flexible he was. Obi-Wan’s eyes were wide and dazed, and they rolled back with a high pitched whine as Qui-Gon slicked his cock again, and pushed roughly back into his used hole, perfect heat swallowing him again, Obi-Wan always tight around his cock no matter how many times he took it, stretched entirely to his limit.. 

“What am I?” Qui-Gon growled, crowding down over Obi-Wan’s body and biting at his jaw as he began to fuck him.

“My master!” Obi-Wan whimpered in response. One of Qui-Gon’s hands wrapped around his knee, bending his leg further as he picked up speed, fucking himself into Obi-Wan’s hole.

“What else am I?” Qui-Gon demanded, fucking into him harder as Obi-Wan looked up at him with wide eyes, too blissed out to think hard enough about what Qui-Gon meant. He held Obi-Wan’s knee tighter and gripped his hip, and let lick from his fingers the faintest flash of lightning. 

Obi-Wan’s reaction was instantaneous, his eyes snapping wide and a loud moan was punched unexpectedly from his lungs as the sensation, an orgasm being forced out of his cock as Qui-Gon’s very force essence sparked through his entire body. Obi-Wan’s aftershocks when on longer than usual, his body jerking wildly for long moments after his cock had finished unexpectedly spurting come against his stomach. 

He cried out on every trust of Qui-Gon’s hips, not so much as slowing down his pounding of Obi-Wan’s hole as his pet shook and whimpered, but he did at least give him a moment before expecting him to speak again. 

“What am I?” Qui-Gon demanded again, shoving his cock against Obi-Wan’s prostate, and his padawan’s eyes sprung open, looking up at him like he was addicted, wild with desire. 

“A sith, ah, fuck please, master, you’re a sith, please,” he cried, his spent cock jerking weakly again, it could get hard again if Qui-Gon forced it, but he liked his padawan like thsi too, pliant and exhausted.

“You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you,” Qui-Gon purred, leaning down and dragging Obi-Wan’s lower lip between his teeth. “You just want me inside you don’t you, your mouth, your hole, you don’t care, you just want to be filled.”

“Yes!” Obi-Wan shouted, struggling with his hands so pitifully that Qui-Gon released the bindings with a flicked of the force, pleased when his pet’s arms arm up around him, nails instantly dragging red lines into his back as he kept fucking him hard despit encouraged by Obi-Wan’s moans and shivers. 

“You’re lucky, pet. I love your little hole, I love how well it stretches around my cock. Mmm, you want to be split open on my cock every day? Have both your hungry little holes stretched wide around my fat cock?”

“ _Master_ , master yes!” Each word was punished out of Obi-Wan with a strong thrust of Qui-Gon’s hips, the headboard beginning to smack against the wall with the force of his movements, Obi-Wan’s nails digging deeper into his back.

“Good, because I don’t think I’m ever going to let you leave,” Qui-Gon growled, fucking into Obi-wan with renewed vigor, the tight hole around his cock driving him to another climax already. “I’m going to fill you up with my come and then I’m going to keep you that way. I’m going to _keep_ you pet.”

“Oh fuck, oh force, yes master, please fill me up. Keep me master,” Obi-Wan whimpered, his lovely voice begging to be Qui-Gon’s the final thing he needed as he ground his cock into Obi-Wan’s hole and bit down hard on his neck with a feral sound as he started to pump him full of his come. 

He fucked into Obi-Wan’s hole as his orgasm rolled through him, using Obi-Wan’s ass to milk his cock, helped by the desperate way Obi-Wan was clenching his exhausted body down, to try and get more of his come. When he was finally spent, Qui-Gon pulled out of Obi-Wan’s wrecked hole as gently as he could, using two fingers to push any come that tried to escape back into him. 

He reached into the bedside drawer again with the force, and pulled the bacta gel to him, rubbing some around Obi-Wan’s rim as his padawan panted with closed eyes, to tighten the muscle back up a little, help to lock his come inside, at least for now. 

“What was that for?” Obi-Wan asked, voice dazed and words forming slowly as his body still shook with the aftermath, when Qui-Gon finally finished fingering his hole with bacta.

But Qui-Gon had no desire to tell him, and looking at his padawan, his bruised hips and red ass, the come leaking out of his used hole, dark bites bitten and sucked into his neck, his swollen lips and the tight collar around his next, he felt his initial fury fail to get back under his skin this time. 

Obi-Wan was his, looking at such an image, no one could deny such a thing. 

It was enough of a balm to him that the thoughts of that jedi version of himself were pushed away, unable to latch onto him as he took in the sight. 

“I wanted to. You’re mine,” Qui-Gon said again, but leaning down to kiss Obi-Wan’s lips more gently than before. When he pulled away, Obi-Wan was looking at him with confusion, but also a softness that radiated out from him, fondness and affection, but no words tried to fall him his lips, and Qui-Gon had to force the images from that dream away again.

“Of course I am,” Obi-Wan replied, voice soft and sweet, and tinged with confusion that Qui-Gon didn’t answer.

When they finally got up to dress for the day, Obi-Wan tried to escape to the ‘fresher, but Qui-Gon stopped him with a firm hand.

“No. I want you _dripping_ with my come today,” Qui-Gon said, thinking about Obi-Wan going about his day while his seed slipped down his thighs and ruined his clothes making the dark, possessive thing inside him quiet a little. Obi-Wan looked apprehensive, but Qui-Gon slipped two fingers into his ass, and pumped them gently through the mess inside of him, Obi-Wan shivering with sensitivity. “Wouldn’t you like that? To know how much I want you, to never be able to forget?”

“O-okay,” Obi-Wan agreed, wetting his lip nervously and letting Qui-Gon pull him in for another possessive kiss. 

Qui-Gon dressed him, encouraging Obi-Wan to try to tighten his hole and keep all his spend inside for as long as he could, Obi-Wan blushing furiously as his so very proper padawan’s clothes were secured around him by Qui-Gon. 

As they walked from their room, he could tell when the first drop of his come had slipped from Obi-Wan’s hole, by the surprised gasp he let out, descending into a pitiful moan, and Qui-Gon had to fight the urge to strip his padawan off then and there to watch it happen. 

But it wasn’t enough, and despite his best efforts Qui-Gon’s agitation returned as the day rolled on, no longer chased away by Obi-Wan’s willing body, instead exacerbated by his occasional disapproving frown at Qui-Gon’s subordinates, by everything about him that was the same as the day before, but today screamed _jedi jedi he wants a jedi not you_ at his mind. He was Darth Avarus, not some placeholder.

He couldn’t bear the thought of his padawan leaving him, if the jedi finally realised what a mistake they had made, letting one as bright as him go. 

He needed to meditate, to release the feelings properly to the force, not emotions he reveled in basking in, but they had taken too long this morning, and he had time-sensitive matters to see to. He knew it was foolish to linger so completely on some whimsical dream his padawan had been enjoying, but the doubt that it caused to curl around him was persistent. 

He felt guilty as he watched Obi-Wan’s afterglow - which could often last an entire day - flickered out more quickly than usual as he felt Qui-Gon’s mood through the bond. He put up his mental shields, dampened the bond even though he felt like he’d rather sever his own limb than do so, so that his dark mood effected Obi-Wan less.

He was careful not to block the bond completely, if they did have the soul bond that he hoped for, then cutting it off in while it was still new and volatile could sever it before it had properly sunk into them both. 

If anything, seeing what he had in his padawan’s sleeping - _dreaming_ \- mind had made him even more covetous of a soul bond. He wanted it, if he could bind Obi-Wan to him in such a complete way, his padawan would never leave him, not even for the jedi. But it would be years before a soul bond that strong was forged between them, and he wondered if the sith had found a way to speed the process. 

But no - Qui-Gon shook himself hard - that wasn’t right. He had never had any desire to force his pet into anything, and while his greed and desire for Obi-Wan had grown, he didn’t want his feelings for his beautiful light padawan to grow into something twisted and dark, something which Obi-Wan was even more sure to reject. But it was tempting, the thought festering in the darkest corners of his mind, that he should make sure Obi-Wan could _neve_ leave. 

He pushed the thought away more fully this time, focusing instead on the way Obi-Wan had smiled at him after he had come, the soft look in his pretty green eyes as he ate his breakfast, the way he sought out Qui-Gon. He wanted Avarus, there was no deniability there, they both knew it, 

They didn’t stop the dark thoughts, that Obi-Wan still planned to leave him for the jedi, but they helped to taper his anger, make it manageable, stop it from overwhelming him and wanting to lock Obi-Wan in. Or at least, stopped him from acting on that desire.

“Master…?” His padawan asked, with too much hesitance for whatever it was he was about to request, clearly still picking up on Qui-Gon’s sour mood. 

“Yes, pet?” Qui-Gon replied, and honestly, just having that sweet attention turned on him, that needless hesitance, washed away some of the darkness trying to encroach on him more thoroughly than he usually permitted it to. 

“Would it be okay if I came with you today? While you work?” He asked, as if Qui-Gon didn’t often let him do this now, as if he really thought Qui-Gon was capable of saying no to him at all any more, and Qui-Gon softened a little. 

“Of course padawan,” he smiled, letting his hand rest on Obi-Wan’s lower back and guiding him with him; not letting him walk half a step behind as he often did, in deference to some arbitrary jedi rule. 

Qui-Gon settled more as Obi-Wan walked beside him, and while he had dampened their bond to shield Obi-Wan from his bad mood and swirling thoughts, a touch of his happiness about being permitted to accompany him found its way through. His padawan choosing to spend the day with him, rather than practicing various jedi training techniques was surely a good sign, even if Obi-Wan turned his nose up at some of his activities. 

A dark thought crossed his mind; that Obi-Wan, in all of his light and goodness, was only interested in following Qui-Gon around his tasks not because he wanted to be by his side, but because he was gathering as much information as he could, before running off to the temple and attempting to us it to barter his way inside. Qui-Gon pushed the thought away, while he suspected that might have been how his pet convinced himself to leave Bandomeer with him in the first place, with how open and honest Obi-Wan’s mind was to him now, he knew that couldn’t still be the case. It was just the darkside attempting to poison his thoughts, and he was stronger than that. 

So Obi-Wan was sat next to him - which had no helped with Qui-Gon’s stormy mood, as his padawan chose the chair beside him instead of his lap - as Qui-Gon listened to the dirge of daily reports and spoke with his lieutenants about their various plans; most of them too ambitious for their abilities. Obi-Wan listened intently, demurely by his side, like the perfect _jedi_ padawan should, only offering his thoughts when Qui-Gon’s subordinates were out of sight. 

When Xanatos swept into the room his padawan shuffled closer, and let his hand drop onto Qui-Gon’s knee, possessive in a sweet way that almost made Qui-Gon chuckle. It was unnecessary, the dark marks littering Obi-Wan’s pale throat were sign enough, and if they weren’t, Xanatos knew exactly how long it had been since he had anything other than work from Qui-Gon. It was pathetic how quickly he’d gone back to grovelling for Qui-Gon’s attention, 

But Xanatos had an excellent handle on the workings of the spice trade, and he was useful in a fight, another force user that was so infatuated and hungry for his attention that he never would even consider betraying him was a handy thing to have around. And Xanatos was so...unhinged in his own way, that it was easy to use him to scare people into line, make them appreciate Qui-Gon’s more calm and controlled nature when he then spoke with them. 

Also, if he was being honest, watching how easy it was to rile Xantos up, to make him seethe with jealousy and take insult after insult and only keep coming back for more amused Qui-Gon more than it should. He had abandoned Xanatos as his padawan because he couldn’t learn to control himself, and even years later he still had not learned the lesson, and he had still harboured the almost funny belief that Qui-Gon would take him back on. Self-delusion had always been another of Xanatos’ unfortunate strengths.

Qui-Gon leant over to Obi-Wan and nosed behind his ear, made him blush and then tugged on his padawan braid intermittently. He liked the way it felt slipping around his fingers, liked the particular shade of pink Obi-Wan’s cheeks went when he did it, liked the way it was bashfulness, not embarrassment, that poured off of him.

Obi-Wan disappeared for a little while after the daily reports, after begging Qui-Gon to let him go and have a shower, pleading with him that everything at dried and was extremely uncomfortable, and Qui-Gon relented, watching Obi-wan’s slightly awkward gait with amusement as he left the room. 

He was still in the meeting room, when one of his enforcer’s ships docked with the Deimos, and Qui-Gon felt a dark tendril of enjoyment as he met his enforcer in the audience room, and a terrified looking spice runner was thrown down in front of him. He had read the reports on the man, nothing imaginative, another fool who thought he could skim money out of Qui-Gon’s share, and that he wouldn’t notice it. 

From time to time such fools emerged in all corners of his business. And from time to time, Qui-Gon decided to make an example. His fingers itched with his unsettled emotions from the day, and he knew that letting some of that anger, that swirling darkness out towards this snivelling thief, would make him feel better.

“So you thought you could steal from me?” Qui-Gon said, circling the terrified looking man. 

“No, no I - ” Qui-Gon silenced him with a hard punch to his jaw, already sending blood spattering across the floor and up his arm. 

“Liar,” he said, voice calm even as his emotions roiled. Landing that punch had felt good, but he needed more. 

The spice runner begged between each blow, even as his teeth were knocked to the floor as his face lit up red, black and purple. His blood splattering up Qui-Gon’s arms and adding a new colour to his tattoos, before he decided that one more hit would be too much. And he wasn’t done yet. 

He took a step back, looking unblinkingly at the wretch at his feet, still trying to beg for forgiveness, offering to work for free; but he served a better purpose to Qui-Gon dead now, an effective warning to every lowlife on his payroll, that no one was too insignificant to escape his notice, if they were stealing from him. 

He stretched out a hand towards the quivering body, and let lightning shoot out the tips of his fingers, making the spice runner convulse and scream out in pain as the door opened, and Obi-Wan stepped through. He was freshly showered, his skin pinked from the heat, and Qui-Gon ground his teeth. He hadn’t meant for him to see this. 

“Master stop! Don’t do this!” His padawan shouted in front of Qui-Gon’s subordinates, and the worthless thief at his feet. 

He ran across the room and started tugging at Qui-Gon’s arm, completely without fear for the lightning shooting out of his fingertips. He thought of the Qui-Gon in Obi-Wan’s dream and a dark feeling twisted up inside of him, and he intensified the force lightning, not expecting Obi-Wan to reach out and grab one of his hands and reacting too slowly. 

Obi-Wan cried out as the electricity shot through his hand, Qui-Gon stopping just a moment too late, Obi-Wan’s body lurched and ceased, crying out in pain. Qui-Gon grabbed his shoulders to steady him, drew Obi-Wan closer to his chest and held him tightly to try and stop him convulsing, almost comically less so, than the spice runner on the floor. 

“Pet, are you all right?” Qui-Gon demanded after a moment. “That was beyond _stupid_.”

“Please don’t kill him,” Obi-Wan croaked, disentangling himself from Qui-Gon’s hold, and Qui-Gon felt anger lashing at his heels again. 

“Throw him in the brig,” he barked at his enforcer, smart enough to have a carefully blank expression as Qui-Gon steered Obi-Wan out of the room. 

“Why did you do that?” Obi-Wan demanded, voice shaken, as Qui-Gon strode down the corridor. He went to grab Qui-Gon’s arms, but Qui-Gon could see the moment he saw the blood spattered over his knuckles and tattoos, and hesitated. 

“In case you had forgotten,” Qui-Gon said, voice clipped as he opened the door to their rooms. “I am a sith. I will _always_ be a sith.”

“I _know_ that.”

“Do you? Because your dreams beg to differ,” Qui-Gon replied, regretting the words instantly, he was better than some crechling, laying his insecurities out for all to see, his own weakness making him angrier. 

“My dreams...is that what this has been about, Qui-Gon, you know that I - ” Obi-Wan started, trying to reach out, but Qui-Gon batted his hands away. 

“Careful Obi-Wan, I’m covered in blood remember, there will be no forgetting what I am when it’s smeared all over your pretty jedi hands,” Qui-Gon sneered, feeling more out of control of himself than he had since he first turned, words he didn't mean slipping past his lips in an emotional riptide that he couldn’t swim against. 

Obi-Wan brought his hands back to his chest and looked down at the floor. Guilt flooding Qui-Gon instantly. 

“I never forget what you are,” he said quietly, jarringly so. “I know and I want you anyway. And sometimes that’s hard for me to understand. My dreams about you as a jedi aren’t to do with that anyway. I was on Bandomeer for six years, and you told me once that if you had still been with the order, you never would have let me be sent away. I dream sometimes, of you as a jedi, because it would mean I never had to go to that place.”

“Obi-Wan, I’m- ” Qui-Gon reached out, but Obi-Wan shrugged out of his grasp, shoulders rounded and making himself small. 

“I think I would like a little time to myself, master. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Regret coiled in an ugly weight in Qui-Gon’s stomach, as Obi-Wan retreated down the hall and back into his old room, the one which had been empty for months. It grew heavier when night rolled around, and the other half of Qui-Gon’s bed remained empty. 

It was a dead weight when in the small hours of the morning alarms screamed out across the ship, signalling intruders, and his hands reached out across the bed to find Obi-Wan, to protect him, and found only cold space. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what's happening, who knows, I guess you'll have to come back next time to find out ˘◡˘
> 
> I very much considered putting obi on a leash in this chapter, but have instead decided to whack that in a porny side story, but feel free to stamp feet and yell and me if you want leash visibility in the main fic, there might still be somewhere i can put it <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, the comments, im ಥ_ಥ each and every one of them makes me smile like a loon and i refresh my emails approximately every ten minutes because i have Zero chill. And I also have endless insecurities and you guys are like, making an honest and concentrated effort to help me with that via your comments and that's making me love you even more <3
> 
> Warnings: ITS PLOT TIME BABY

Obi-Wan was jarred from sleep and felt disorientated in a way that he hadn’t since that first week aboard Qui-Gon’s ship. He opened his eyes as his ears filled up with a loud, clanging alarm, and it took him a few moments to remember where he was - or rather, where he wasn’t. 

He had no idea what the alarm meant, and as he had slept in his old room the night before, his master wasn’t around to tell him. Though, he couldn’t imagine an alarm that loud meant anything good. He dressed as quickly as he could, pulling on his padawan robes and grabbing his lightsaber, hooking it on his belt. The lights weren’t working properly, and Obi-Wan worried for the power, using the force to guide him as his eyes struggled to adjust to the dim.

But not knowing what was going on out in the ship that had just a loud noise blaring through the metal corridors had him hesitant to open the door. For all he knew the alarm meant that there was a breach in the hull and everyone was to keep their doors shut at all costs to retain pressure in the ship. No, a hull breach would mean that they were being attacked, and Obi-Wan would feel the ship maneuvering, and surely a hit bad enough to damage the hull would have woken him. 

Still, diving out of his room and into unknown circumstances seemed like a fool hardy thing to do, and Obi-Wan quickly checked his old dresser for the communicator his master had given him soon after joining the ship. But almost all of his things now found their home in his master’s room, and the communicator was no different. And his master’s quarters were not exactly safe. 

He knew what his master would want, for Obi-Wan to stay safe, to stay in his room, whatever the threat outside was. But inaction was difficult for Obi-Wan, and his fingers itched for the pad by the door. 

His master. Obi-Wan hadn’t regretted his choice to sleep in his old room until the alarm had blared, he wanted to be beside his master, protecting him and being protected in turn, as he felt sure whatever was happening to warrant such an alarm had ill intentions towards his master. 

Qui-Gon’s actions the day before had been confusing, frustrating, and difficult for Obi-Wan to release to the force, even after meditating in his old room for hours. He remembered the dream he had been having about his master, it had been a flight of fancy, a fantasy, and one that had revolved more around all the ways his master fucked him than it did him being a jedi. He hadn’t even thought to connect his dream to his master’s sudden and encompassing possessiveness, the ferocity with which he’d fucked Obi-Wan. 

It wasn’t that his master had looked inside his dreams, he had done it before, Obi-Wan had given him permission to do so, knowing that he had nothing to hide from his master, and he often dreamed of him anyway. But Qui-Gon had taken exception to being seen as a jedi, it had clearly agitated him more than Obi-Wan had ever considered, seemed determined to remind Obi-Wan that he wasn’t. As if Obi-Wan could ever forget. 

Except. That he did sometimes. He didn’t forget that his master was a sith, but he certainly forgot that that was a bad thing occasionally. His master was so sweet to him, so kind and doting, that the fact he was a sith seemed to slip away into one of those inconsequential things. But his master was right, it was his identity and Obi-Wan shouldn’t forget it, he shouldn’t need an accidental shock of force lightning to remember exactly what that entailed. 

He’d been in turmoil when he’d turned from his master looking for space, trying to escape his tumultuous feelings, unable to think when he was around his master, so fresh from torturing a man - a man that Obi-Wan had no doubt would not see the light of tomorrow, regardless of his intervention. 

The problem was not that Obi-Wan wished that his master was a jedi, it was that he didn’t.

He wanted Jinn, exactly as he was. He wanted his possessive hands, and golden eyes, dark force signature and wicked smiles. Obi-Wan would cleave through hundreds of people, just to hear that low, dangerous chuckle again. And the thought terrified him. 

It wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He had wanted his master to train him so that he could become a jedi one day, and a part of him still clung to that fantasy. It was a childish dream, would never happen, and he needed to let it go, but it was a dream that had seen him through so much with hope still in his veins. He wasn’t sure how to let go of it, a part of him still wanted it, still hoped for it.

It was why he hadn’t told his master out loud, words that had been dancing on the tip of his tongue for weeks now. 

He was confused, especially so fresh after seeing his master hurting someone for no good reason, just because he could. He had two dreams and they were impossible to reconcile; of being with his master, the man who wanted him unconditionally, forever; and of growing to become a jedi, as he had always wanted, from his first memories. 

But now was not the time to ruminate on any of this. The alarm was still screaming, Obi-Wan still had no idea what was going on, and for all he knew his master was in trouble, and a good padawan protected his master, belonged at his side. So holding his breath, Obi-Wan pressed his hand to the locked pad, and the door slid open with a familiar hiss. 

The lighting had changed, instead of the clean white light that usually lit the Deimos, instead the hallways were dark with only beams of red embedded in the walls illuminating the corridors. Emergency power had taken over, and the sound of the alarm made it impossible for Obi-Wan to use his hearing to try and pick up threats that might be coming around the corners. 

All of the doors were shut, including the blast doors between each segment of corridor, usually left wide open. For a moment, Obi-Wan thought all movements through the ship had been restricted in this way, but when Obi-Wan pressed his hand to the biometric lock, they opened for him easily, sliding shut behind him after a few seconds. The hallways of the usually busy ship were deserted, and were it not for that constant shriek of the alarm, it would have been eerie. 

He kept his hand on his saber but didn’t light it, knowing that he was particularly gifted at sneaking through the shadows, and turning his weapon on would only advertise his location. He still had no idea why the alarms were blaring at all, and slowly made his way through the corridors towards the bridge, having little hope that his master was still in his rooms. There was a chance he was in operations - there was a chance his master was literally _anywhere_ on the ship - and Obi-Wan cursed it, not for the first time, for being so damn big. 

He tried to reach out with the force to locate his master, but couldn’t sense anything beyond the sets of blast doors he was constantly between, it was like a sense had been cut off from him, and were it not for the bond between them, he would have been made anxious by his master’s absence from him. It was something to do with this emergency mode the Deimos was equipped with that Obi-Wan had never seen before, it was blocking his ability to reach out with the force and sense life-forms through the walls. 

Obi-Wan wondered for a moment why his master would enforce his ship with such a complicated piece of tech when it would effect him also, before realising that his master was protecting against other force users, to stop himself being located so easily by intruders. This was a large ship, someone who knew it’s layout well could evade an intruder for days in its rooms, corridors and maintenance shafts. He wondered if a dark force user had gained access to the ship, there were always stories, about rejected sith apprentices growing feral and mad with darkness, and returning for revenge on those who had wronged them. 

Feeling as though three of his senses were dampened; the force from the walls, sight from the low light, and hearing from the noise, Obi-Wan slowed his movement even more. 

Most of the doors had windows unless they led into quarters, but with the darkness, and the dampening of his ability to reach with the force, it was almost impossible for him to spot whether there was someone in the next area he entered, and he was having to move through seemingly endless corridors and rooms on his path to the bridge - the Deimos had never felt so large before.

He hadn’t come across a soul, not a single one of his master’s considerable staff, usually bustling around the corridors. He wondered where they all were, locked in their rooms or manning their stations in the various ops rooms scattered around the ship. He wanted to cross through the cargo bay, he knew a shortcut from there to the corridor that connected to the bridge and main command centre, it would be faster than passing through each corridor, and Obi-Wan would feel safer in the maintenance tubes than he did out in the open. But entering a room felt different to sneaking through the corridors, like he was more likely to encounter another person. 

He peered through the widow but was unsurprised when he saw nothing; even if it hadn’t been dark and dampened, the porthole was small, and the cargo bay was massive, one of the biggest single rooms on the ship, rivalled only by the other four cargo bays, and the main hangar. 

Obi-Wan unlocked the door with his palm and it hissed open. With such a larger space available to his sense of the force, awareness felt like it flooded back into Obi-Wan, overwhelming for a single moment. A single moment which was long enough for the door to hiss shut behind him, and Obi-Wan to realise that he was not alone in the room. 

He had spent so long around no other force sensitives than his master - who was formidable in his presence - and to a far lesser extent Xanatos, that feeling his senses brush up against someone strong in the light felt almost like it burned. Like stepping out into the light after spending too long in a dark room. An unpleasant burning in his retinas. 

Obi-Wan gasped, realising that there were two jedi in the room, in the room _close_ to him. He groped behind himself blindly for the locking pad, not wanting to turn his back, but he was too slow, and a blue and green lightsaber lit up in front of him, throwing out light and illuminating all three of them. 

“Don’t move,” one of the jedi said, voice firm. With the light from the sabers, Obi-Wan could see their faces, a man and woman, human and cerean, not a braid between them making Obi-Wan realise he was looking at least at a pair of knights, but instinct telling him they were masters.”You can get through the locks?” He demanded, and Obi-Wan worried for his hands and their connection to his wrists - surely a jedi would never? “Answer me,” he said and Obi-Wan frowned, batting away the force suggestion easily. It made the jedi frown.

“Wait,” the cerean said, squinting her eyes at Obi-Wan in the dim light. “You’re the padawan.” She lowered her saber from such an aggressive stance and Obi-Wan’s confusion grew. 

He didn’t speak again, trying desperately to think of what his master would tell him to do in a situation like this. He couldn’t hope to defeat a single jedi master in a fight, let alone two, no matter how well he’d taken to his training.

He forced himself not to fidget, to contain his desire to flee, before berating himself, if these were jedi, did he _need_ to flee? He wasn’t their enemy, were they?

With a note of genuine fear, Obi-Wan realised that they must be here for his master - the idea of only two jedi being able to challenge him was foolish - but Obi-Wan was scared of where he would stand, if they attacked Qui-Gon. He knew in his heart the answer without a second thought, but wasn’t ready to voice it, he felt lost in his own skin all of a sudden, like it didn’t fit him anymore, and his padawan robes itched.

“You do not need to fear, padawan,” the cerean said, and Obi-Wan berated himself, he had got too used to not bothering to shield his feelings around his master. “We are here to rescue you.” 

“You’re-. What?” Obi-Wan said, finally startled into speaking by sheer confusion.

“There is no time to explain, come with us, you can open the doors,” the man said, lightsaber still lit and nudging Obi-Wan’s back to get him moving. He was flanked, the female jedi in front, the man behind, and Obi-Wan realised, with an absurd thought, that they seemed to be trying to protect him. 

“Wait - ” Obi-Wan started, not allowed to stop in his walk as they corralled him over to the starboard doors leading to the corridor. 

“There is no time padawan, we must leave before we are found and prevented from doing so. Here, open the door,” the cerean said, taking Obi-Wan by the wrist when he hesitated, clearly in a hurry. Obi-Wan flinched, snatched his hand back as the jedi unwittingly pressed down on the bruises around his wrist.

The jedi noticed, because of course they did, frowned between one another. “We’re sorry padawan but we really have to hurry,” the human said, sounding genuinely apologetic, but Obi-Wan ducked out of his reach and scurried back a few steps.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you trying to rescue me?” Obi-Wan said slowly, holding his own wrist as the dull pain faded away again. His master would have rubbed bacta into the bruises last night, if Obi-Wan had been with him, where he should have been. He never forgot about things like that. 

“I really cannot impress upon you how important swiftness is here, we were lucky you stumbled upon us at all. We can explain everything after we have left this infernal ship,” the man said, carefully not impatient, coaxing, and Obi-Wan batted away another suggestion, as if it were an irritating fly. 

“Stop that,” he said, frowning. 

“Isn’t why we’re here for you...obvious?”

“No.”

“Perhaps he has tampered with his memory?” The cerean said, infuriatingly, as if Obi-Wan were not present. 

“I assure you that Qui-Gon has not altered my memory,” Obi-Wan scowled. 

“With all due respect padawan, you wouldn’t necessarily know that.”

“We really don’t have time for this, come padawan, open the door so we can get you out of this place and back to the temple,” the ceren said, and Obi-Wan slunk out of her reach again, finally understanding the mistake that had been made. 

They thought he was a real padawan, capture by the sith, it was so ironic he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

And then, he realised what was happening, an opportunity that was opening up in front of him, staring him down like a hungry maw, ready to take himself away from this life he had found, on the tenuous promise of the dream he had dreamed since he was a child. He could go with them, as he claimed he had been waiting for - though if he was being honest with himself, that had been a way to justify joining Avarus to himself, not something he truly believed could happen. 

But here it was, a jedi with an outstretched hand, offering to take him to the temple, everything Obi-Wan had ever wanted. All he had to do was take the hand being offered to him. 

Obi-Wan took another step back.

“I’m not from the temple, I’m not a jedi,” Obi-Wan said, even though the words burned as he felt the truth of them. 

“Force what has Avarus done to him,” the cerean muttered under her breath at the same time the other jedi spoke. 

“Of course you are, look at you, I can feel how strong you are with the force. He must have changed your memories, he is very powerful. Come with us and we can have the healers restore them.”

“No. I was sent to Bandomeer at thirteen, no master wanted to train me,” Obi-Wan said, watching as uncomfortable realisation dawned on the two jedi. Obi-Wan understood the confusion, he knew that padawan’s went missing occasionally, or when deaths could not be confirmed. He knew what he looked like, what they must have thought, when they received reports of a jedi padawan with Darth Avarus. “I am sorry you went to so much trouble.”

“Well padawan or now, we can still recuse you from this place, we will keep you safe at the temple.”

“You misunderstand me. No master wanted to train me until I met Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said, trying to remain calm, surely, as they knew now that they had come on a pointless mission, they would simply leave. “I went with him willingly, he never forced me, I am no prisoner here. Why do you think I can open all the doors?”

“But you are brimming with the light.”

“He has no desire to change me, I asked him to train me as a jedi, as you yourselves would not, and he has done so,” Obi-Wan replied, the jedi jumped on what he had thought it harmless to reveal. 

“It is clear that the jedi made some kind of mistake, come back to the temple with us, you will be trained. Anyone who can retain their light after so long in such a dark presence is clearly destined to be a jedi,” the man said, and Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide, he knew they did, even though he didn’t mean them to. Before had he returned with them, and been discovered as a reject from Bandomeer, it was unlikely he would have been trained, but now, with a jedi master telling him differently. Jedi didn’t lie, he meant it, they wanted to train Obi-Wan. The thought should have filled him with joy. The jedi didn’t lie, but…

“The jedi didn’t want me. My master does,” he said, and realised with a start, that the jedi had gotten closer without him noticing, and he felt hemmed in and trapped, the wall behind him, crates to either side, and the jedi in his only path. 

“We were afraid of this,” the human said, scanning the room with sharp eyes to check that they hadn’t received any more visitors while they had been distracted with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan could read what they apparently thought, that he was some kind of brainwashed body slave, rather than a perfectly able person making a choice freely; it didn’t comply with the way they viewed the sith, if Obi-Wan was free to make his own choices here.

“I was hoping to spare you this, but there are videos of you all over the holonet,” the cerean said, as if that were supposed to mean something, as if she expected it to make him flee.. 

“I know people take photos when we’re out. I don’t see why that matters,” Obi-Wan said, though he felt embarrassed, knowing the kinds of places those recordings and pictures might have been taken.

“They are videos of you and Darth Avarus...engaged in intimacy,” she told him, and Obi-Wan felt his face burn as genuine shame began to rise in him. “Clearly you did not know about this, he has invaded your privacy, betrayed your trust at the very least, you have been made a spectacle of.

“No,” Obi-Wan shook his head, he knew his master, he knew him well. If those videos had been leaked, then it wasn’t by Qui-Gon. “He wouldn’t do that. It must have been someone else.” He said firmly, surprised when he felt the tiniest frisson of frustration released into the force, the jedi remaining perfectly outwardly calm. 

“I saw how you flinched when I took your wrist, he is hurting you,” the cerean said, Obi-Wan slipping out of her touch again, as she no doubt intended to inspect his wrist. 

“Nothing I do not enjoy, nothing he wouldn’t stop if I asked him to,” Obi-Wan replied, trying to temper his humiliation at being exposed and challenged in this way. He wondered how much earlier the jedi must have needed to reach him, for him to have gone with them. Months, he imagined, if not more. 

“Enough of this. We need to leave, the longer we stay here the more danger we are all in.”

“This is my home, I’m not in danger here,” Obi-Wan said, realising that the man was including him in his assessment. Obi-Wan was never safer, than when he was here. 

“ We cannot let you stay here,” the cerean said, and panic began to lick its way up Obi-Wan’s spine. He could not escape two jedi masters, if they did not want him to. He needed his master, but the dampening walls were stopping him reaching out with the force. 

“I didn’t know you could control my actions,” he said carefully, they hadnt noticed the lightsaber on his belt - likely couldn’t imagine him being armed and free on this ship - and it took all of his effort not to light it now. He had to hope there would be a better opportunity later, right now he would only end up disarmed and in a worse position. Besides, he didn’t want to hurt them, surely they wouldn’t force him off the ship. 

“You are a lightside user, and clearly not in your right mind if you think consorting with a sith is acceptable. You are coming with us, for your own good,” the jedi said, the other master agreeing with an apologetic tilt of her head. 

Before Obi-Wan could react, he felt himself gripped by the force, pulled forward and off his feet unwillingly, unable to find purchase to stop himself. The male jedi took his hand and pressed it against the door pad, opening it. Obi-Wan was let go when the door was closed behind them, and he immediately tried to retreat back through it, only for his arms to be caught in stronger hands. 

“We are _sorry_ padawan, but you will see when you are free of this place that he has done something to you to make you want these things,” she said, as if she knew, as if any jedi had ever paid enough attention to him to have the first clue what went on inside his head.

“What does it matter if you let me stay here?” Obi-Wan shouted, they tried to get him to move with a lightsaber to his back, but Obi-Wan knew that that was not the jedi way, they couldn’t strike him down in this corridor, no better than an execution, and they were forced to move him more manually as Obi-Wan fought against them every step. “The jedi never wanted me, you kicked me out of the only home I had ever known at thirteen, and left me alone on some outer rim world. I bet you don’t tell our mothers _that_ when you take us away from them.”

He didn’t know where his anger had come from, he had never even consciously thought that thought before- or at least, he had never admitted to having it. But now it was all there, bubbling at the surface as these people who had abandoned him on Bandomeer now tried to steal the away the new place Obi-Wan had found to call home. Why, because they didn’t like it? Because they still felt they had some kind of say over the choices he made? Something about it didn’t sit right with him, he was missing a piece. 

“Calm yourself, reach out to the force, release you emotions as you know you should,” the human instructed as he manhandled Obi-Wan down the hallway, as if Obi-Wan were some youngling he needed to train. 

“I’m not a jedi,” Obi-Wan said gritting his teeth. “Why are you trying to take me away from my home, I don’t understand - Oh,” Obi-Wan said, with dawning realisation as the jedi became more aggressive in their determination to take him away. “It looks bad.”

“You do not - ”

“This isn’t even about me!” Obi-Wan shouted again, feeling hysterical as all of the dots connected in his mind, it had never been about him. Even here, in this daring rescue of their lost padawan, it hadn’t been about him, or what they thought he was suffering. “This is about the order, it's about how it looks for what everyone thinks is a lost jedi padawan to be seen at Darth Avarus’ side! You want him to be the one not giving me a choice but it’s you!”

“You cannot want to be here, and if you do, then you are an accomplice to the sith and we will bring you in as a prisoner instead,” the human said taking Obi-Wan by the right upper arm, while the other master took his left, made it difficult for him to struggle as the slapped his hand down on the next pad. 

Obi-Wan realised, with dawning horror, that they really were going to take him away if he didn’t find a way to stop them.

“No, I do not want to go with you!” Obi-Wan shouted again, a burst of dark energy coming off of him as he attempted to throw the jedi off of him, get control of himself back.

It caught them off guard and they clattered to the wall, but Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t have time to incapacitate both for them before being dragged into a duel, and he didn’t think he could defeat a master, so instead he ran for the next door, cursing the second it took for the force damned thing to open. He was through it, but it hadn’t closed behind him when he felt a curl of the force drag him back into the same section as them, his attempt to run failed, and the jedi wouldn’t be so caught off-guard this time. 

“Not such a lightsider then, perhaps,” the cerean said, and they both took hold of him more firmly this time, he could feel them on high alert for another wave of the force. 

“Leave me behind, and you might get out of this alive,” Obi-Wan said, his brain hysterically asking himself if he was _threatening a jedi with his sith master?_

“Silence,” he ordered, attempting, pointlessly, another force suggestion that Obi-Wan batted back to him so violently it crashed hard against the jedi’s shields, made him wince just slightly. 

He couldn’t escape their hold, he tried to push them away again and again but they didn’t let him dislodge them. He couldn’t even reach his saber and attempt to catch them off guard that way, not that he thought it would work, but he was growing more and more desperate with every meter they moved. 

“He will come for me,” Obi-Wan said, voice shaky; with anger or fear, he wasn’t sure, some cocktail of the two, perhaps. 

“He is a sith, we have taken greater prizes than you from the emperor and his dogs without them chasing us all the way to Coruscant.

“You won’t get that far,” Obi-Wan said, voice taking on a note that he didn’t recognise. He needed to think of something, of a way to reach his master, tell him what section they were in, who the intruders were, what they were doing, but he couldn’t think of - 

_Obi-Wan! Pet where are you!_

A voice rang out clear in his head, one that he knew well, and Obi-Wan gasped out in relief as it stood unaffected by the dampening walls; because it was internal, perhaps? He hadn’t known they could communicate through their bond yet, it hadn’t even occurred to him, training bonds took years to become that strong, and he had only been on this ship for half of one. But his master had said that he thought it might be a different kind of bond, and Obi-Wan felt his heart clench in his chest. 

His master was shouting into his head, using the force and pushing hard to be heard so clearly, it made the space behind Obi-Wan’s eyes hurt with the sudden intensity of their connection. He didn’t know how to shout so loudly in his mind, so he did it out loud instead, and poured all of it into their bond. 

“MASTER!” Obi-Wan bellowed, shocking the jedi more than his latest bursts of the force had, but they still didn’t let go. “The jedi are taking me! They’re trying to take me off the ship! Master we’re in section T4 heading towards C section! Help me master, I can’t get away, please master! Please I don’t want to go!” Obi-Wan screamed at the to of his lungs. 

“What’s he doing?” The cerean asked before a hand slapped down over Ob-Wan’s mouth tightly. He bit it, but the jedi hung on, and Obi-Wan continued shouting in his head. 

_Please master, please, don’t let them take me. I want to stay here with you. We’re in C7, they’ve turned on to B6._

_I’m coming Obi-Wan, I will not let them take you, you’re mine, remember, and I will never let you go_.

Qui-Gon comforting voice, laced with a cold fury Obi-Wan knew wasn’t for him, filled up his mind. It calmed him for a few seconds, before they turned onto a final section of corridor, and Obi-Wan saw a boarding pod lodged into the side of the ship, penetrating the hull with its sharp blades.

_Master they’ve reached their pod. It’s in A5, please master, hurry._

_Stall them padawan, I am coming, I will not let them do this_.

“Get off of me!” Obi-Wan roared, slamming out with the force again, his master’s dark presence in his mind helping him to feed off the dark, that side of the force joining the light within him as he struggled and fought against the jedi. 

They were shocked at his strength as he managed to get them off of him once more, but they were fast to recover, grabbed him again and started forcing him into the pod, twisting his arm awkwardly and making him cry out in pain. He heard the roar in his head as much as he did thundering down the corridor, the doors slamming open all at once, revealing his master barrelling towards them. 

“OBI-WAN!” It felt as though the walls of the ship were shaking, his master encompassed in a dark cloud of furious energy.

“Master!” Obi-Wan called, he would make it, he would make it, Obi-Wan wouldn’t be taken away. 

The door to the pod slammed shut, almost shearing off Obi-Wan’s fingers as he snatched them back just in time. His master suddenly cut off from him, only able to hear him in his head. 

Obi-Wan was bashing his hands against the thick, impenetrable reinforced glass of the pod window, watching his master running towards him but entirely incapable of reaching him as the pod detached from the ship, and dragged Obi-Wan out into open space, his master disappearing from view. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy *insert you've got a big storm comin' gif*
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, twas a differently paced chapter than usual?? I hope you liked it anyway?? Regularly scheduled horniness will return i promise (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys the goddamn comments. I'm, yeah. I don't even know what to say, I'm so incredibly grateful and touched by each and every one of them, and anyone who has left me one needs to know that you are personally responsible for making me smile, improving my day, and helping me to write more <3
> 
> Sorry you got left on a cliffhanger for three whole days (┛◉Д◉)┛two more fills for kink week and then I will be back on my regularly scheduled five+ updates a week <3

Qui-Gon no longer panicked. That reaction had been purged from him before he left the jedi temple with Dooku, but there was a brief moment of fear when the alarms woke him and he found the other side of the bed empty, which trod dangerously close to panic. But he remembered just a moment later, with no small amount of anguish, that Obi-Wan had not shared his bed last night, he had not been snatched from his arms.

Still, the knowledge that his pet could be in danger unsettled him; it was the second time Obi-Wan had been less than entirely safe aboard Qui-Gon’s ship, and that was unacceptable. 

“Lord Avarus, we have intruders,” a voice rang through his personal communicators, as Qui-Gon moved quickly from his bed, already halfway through dressing himself. Discomforted when he found Obi-Wan’s personal communicator on the dresser beside his own. 

“Turn on the cameras to Kenobi’s old rooms, confirm to me that there is one person and one person alone present there,” Qui-Gon barked, reaching for his cloak. A couple of beats of silence passed as the ensign checked. 

“Confirmed, my lord,” he replied, and Qui-Gon felt some of the tightness in his chest ease. 

“And our intruders?”

“Their boarding pod pierced section A5, but they are moving fast.”

“Bring down the shutters,” Qui-Gon ordered, a few seconds later hearing the _clang clang clang_ of the blast doors slamming down throughout his ship. There were only two people aboard the ship who were able to open them all. 

“The ship is locked down, my lord,” then ensign reported.

“Stand by,” Qui-Gon said. “I will not be long.”

He strode out into the dark corridor, illuminated only in pulses of red coming from the emergency lighting, and his cloak billowed out behind him as he moved from section to section with his saber lit. 

Qui-Gon wanted to go and fetch his padawan, keep him safe by his side where he could see him, but, begrudgingly he could admit that there was likely nowhere safer for Obi-Wan than his old room, it was in an unremarkable part of the ship that not intruder would think useful, and only Obi-Wan’s hand and Qui-Gon’s own could open the door. Not to mention, the long walk from the bridge to Obi-Wan’s old room was long, and the journey would easily put Obi-Wan in the most danger possible, and also stop the ship from going into lockdown.

So Qui-Gon forced himself to focus, touching the bond with one corner of his mind to reassure himself that Obi-Wan was safe, before turning his attention fully back to the situation at hand.

From his own quarters, the bridge was not far, and he found no one in his path - a shame, it would have ended this folly boarding attempt early. But wherever the invaders were, they were trapped and unable to move, better he learned as much as he could, before confronting them. 

“Report,” Qui-Gon barked as the door to the bridge opened under his palm, his crew did not snap to attention, because each of them was already there, seeing to their task with an air of precision and purpose that Qui-Gon liked. 

“A boarding pod pierced our hull in section A5, we believe two lifeforms exited the pod, and have tracked their location to cargo bay two. They are trapped, my lord.”

“For now, it is always possible they will find their way into the maintenance shafts,” Qui-Gon replied, he had left them clear to be of use to his own crew, in case of a larger incursion, to allow his people to get to wherever they were needed, without being seen. But it always ran the risk of the enemy finding them as well. 

In truth, his lockdown protocol on the ship was still under construction, it needed upgrades, had flaws. A large one being that the force dampeners tampered with the normal telemetry from sensors, leaving Qui-Gon blind to the other areas in his ship beyond basic camera feeds. Cameras which were ot always best positioned to see entire rooms. 

Perhaps this incursion was a good thing, it was highlighting the many flaws in the ship’s lockdown systems that he would have to have checked. 

“Have you found the primary ship?” Qui-Gon asked, boarding pods had little range and they were in deep space, meaning there was a bigger ship around here somewhere, and that was a thought he didn’t like - a quite probably more of a danger to them than the boarding party. He was suspicious though, two send only two people onto his ship was suicide, so foolish he couldn’t contemplate anyone that would try it, and it had him suspicious immediately. 

“We are still scanning for the ship, so far we have found nothing,” Vendulp replied, her voice tight with tension and her hands flying over the controls as she searched open space.

“Modulate the frequency after every clean scan, they must be using cloaking technology,” Qui-Gon growled, he liked this less and less, and the force was setting an uneasy feeling in his gut. “Tell me immediately as soon as you find anything. Our intruders, what do we know about them?” Qui-Gon asked, pacing the length of the bridge. He was frustrated, wanted to simply go down to cargo bay two and cut down whoever it was that had decided they could waltz so freely onto his ship. 

“Nothing so far, my lord. We have Brax and Danning are moving through the maintenance shafts as we speak to examine the boarding pod, but they have a long way to go, and it’s slow progress through the shafts,” Thrambir replied, flicking through camera feeds of the ship, picking up nothing, the ship too large to be checked manually in this way to any sort of effect.

I believe they’re jedi, my lord,” Xanatos said, sweeping up the steps to the center of the bridge, coming to stand beside Qui-Gon. 

“Why?” Qui-Gon demanded. “I don’t have time for half baked theories.”

“I was the one who initially sounded the alarm, before the lockdown was ordered I reached out with the force. They’re strong, far stronger than any simple force-sensitive. They’ve been trained and they felt like the light,” Xanatos informed him, and Qui-Gon digested the information. 

The jedi had left the sith alone for years, too cowardly to face them in open combat, only interfering in small arms of their business occasionally, when Qui-Gon himself was nowhere near, though Ventress and Opress had had a few difficulties, over the years. 

The jedi had lost a great many of their number to the sith in years past, in badly thought out attacks, and so the republic’s greatest heroes had adopted a policy of avoidance, and ignoring the outer rim on the flimsy excuse that it wasn’t part of the republic proper anyway. 

But none of that explained what a pair of jedi were doing here, on his ship, in a bolder attempt than he had seen from the jedi in long years. He didn’t like not knowing, if he was missing information then there was no way for him to approach a situation holding all the cards; a position he didn’t like, especially when dealing with jedi. 

It also didn’t explain _how_ they knew where his ship was. Which was perhaps the more pressing concern.

“Then it is only a matter of time before they figure out they can use the vents,” Qui-Gon scowled, unwilling to let his dislike of their way of life lead him to underestimating the threat they posed. 

“I am sure that together we could nullify them, my lord,” Xanatos said, Qui-Gon seeing the way his discarded apprentice had to catch the word master; a title that was reserved now only for his pet. 

But now was not the time to sneer at Xanatos, and he had done well to catch that their intruders were jedi, it changed the way Qui-Gon approached it, made him more cautious. Too many sith wanted to rush in at every opportunity; too many sith were fools.It was much better to bide one’s time and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

“If we kill them immediately I will not know why they are here at all,” Qui-Gon scolded, Xanatos had always been too quick to violence, one of his many flaws. “And I would not need your help to do so.”

“Of course, my lord,” Xanatos replied, voice measured in that way of his that was distracting. 

“We will know more when Brax reaches the pod,” Qui-Gon said, he hated playing this waiting game, but he wouldn’t approach without knowing what they were after, for all he knew, they were trying to lure him out for some reason. “Prioritise the cameras in cargo bay two, I want to see what they’re up to.”

“Yes my lord. Wait,” the lieutenant replied, and Qui-Gon ground his teeth together.

“What?” He barked, startling the lieutenant into sitting up with a more rigid back. 

“The cameras have been covered. They weren’t a moment ago my lord, I swear,” the lieutenant said, Qui-Gon could feel the lieutenants fear beginning to fill up the force around him, it was annoying and he silenced it. 

“Xanatos, prepare a strike team,” he ordered, he couldn’t be blind to two jedi in his ship, they would have to be dealt with faster than he had anticipated. He would give the order to leave one alive, he wanted to know where this renewed interest in his operation had come from. 

“Yes my lord,” Xanatos replied and Qui-Gon stood very still as he waited, suppressing the urge to continue to pace restlessly around his ship. It would take a few minutes the strike team to reach the bridge, and Qui-Gon felt each one of them tick past slowly.

“My lord we have movement, section T1,” an ensign said quickly, hands flying over controls. 

“The maintenance shafts?” Qui-Gon demanded, T1 was only a few sections away from the cargo bay, there shouldn’t have been anyone opening the doors. 

“No master. They’re opening the doors,” the ensign said, and Qui-Gon could see on her screen a pair of cloaks disappearing through an opened door. “I can’t see any better.” He panicked, the camera system was old, poorly maintained and badly positioned from a lack of maintenance, it was his own fault, his own arrogance as the jedi hadn’t touched him in so long, but his anger pulsed out and electrified the air in the room, he resisted lashing out only because he needed more information.

“How!” Qui-Gon demanded, before dread welled in him. “Pull up the feed on Kenobi’s old room,” he barked, pushing the ensign aside with a shove of the force when he decided she was taking too long, and doing it himself with near-inhuman speed. 

The room was empty and Qui-Gon felt himself go cold, the jedi had his padawan, his pet, his _Obi-Wan_. 

“They would _dare_ take him from me,” Qui-Gon growled, saber already in his hand, no longer willing to wait for the strike team and went for the door.

“Lord Avarus wait!” Xanatos called, Qui-Gon threw him against a console, but his discarded apprentice wasn't deterred. “What if he’s going with him willingly!” He shouted, and Qui-Gon could have crushed his windpipe then and there, would have, were it not for the fact that Obi-Wan had slept away from him that night, in an argument over the jedi. 

Surely it wasn’t possible, Obi-Wan would not leave him like that. But he understood now, why the jedi were here at all, worried about their reputation as they always were, and Darth Avarus had been parading a jedi padawan around at his side, fucking him in barely private places, teasing him in public. They couldn’t let it continue and they had come to take him. 

He had no idea what they might offer in that situation, and he didn’t know what Obi-Wan would do, if they offered him training in the temple. Would he stay? Two days ago he would have said yes, today, he wasn’t so sure.

But then he felt it as his padawan swarmed back into his thoughts, distress and panic bleeding down their bond and he berated himself for not monitoring it more closely, wondered how long those feelings had been bubbling and Qui-Gon, in his inattention, had written the faint feelings off as ghosts of his own. 

He called to Obi-Wan in his mind, as loudly and forceful as he could, pulling from the dark and hoping the bond was strong enough to carry his words. Obi-Wan panic slammed back into him, 

“No jedi steals from me,” Qui-Gon spat, they didn’t know about the bond, he didn’t want word getting back to Sidious. “Clear my route to the boarding pod, but leave the doors in that sections down,” Qui-Gon ordered, slamming his hand down on the pad and moving at a force assisted run as doors opened up in front of him, hopefully the lockdown near the pod would slow the jedi down some, allow him to catch up. 

Obi-Wan was calling out desperately, Qui-Gon could taste his fear and it made him furious. At the jedi, at himself for hesitating, for believing for a single moment that Obi-Wan would leave him so easily. He thundered down the corridors, calling on the force to move him faster, a hurricane of darkness barrelling down the hallways of his ship. 

Obi-Wan kept calling to him, fresh panic as he saw the pod and Qui-Gon shouted down his communicator to lift the lockdown entirely, doing nothing to slow them anymore. He felt pain twist through their bond and Qui-Gon roared as he turned the final corner, he could see Obi-Wan up ahead, and the jedi, shoving him in the pod as he fought against them. 

He would make it, he could make it, his padawan would not be taken from him. 

He was only meters away, when the pod ripped away from the ship, his control of the force the only thing that stopped him being sucked out into the vacuum. He heard doors coming down to seal off the section and the breach. The darkside shrouded him, kept him alive in the vacuum and his feet on his ship, and he reached out with his rage, wrapped that darkness around the pod and _pulled_. 

He felt it shift, the engines struggled against his power and he shut his eyes, reaching further into the dark than he ever had before. He could do it, he could _drag_ that pod back into the ship, force the jedi to face him. He was swirling with the dark, it was curling out from him, almost visible as he reached for the ship, like lashing vines coming out from his entire being and dragging it back. 

He felt drunk on the power, Obi-Wan was reaching out to him, hope blooming in his padawan as the pod was slowly, impossibly, dragged back towards the Deimos. He closed his eyes, focusing all his attention into the force, his connection with it, harnessing the darkness inside of him, reaching out for more as he reached for the pod. 

_Yes, master please, please you’ve doing it, don’t let them take me, please_

Obi-Wan’s pleas in his head helped him to pull harder, more forcefully, the pod gaining momentum towards him. And then there was a sharp pull, a snap, and Qui-Gon’s eyes flew open as the pod was ripped from his grasp and his hold on it broke. A ship had decloaked beside them, a harpoon reeling the pod in fast, already starting to move away, Qui-Gon unable to fight against such a large construct. 

_Master!_

_I am coming, Obi-Wan. Do you hear me? I am_ coming _for you. They will not have you, you are mine_.

His communicator was bleeping wildly, he hadn’t heard it in his focus, and in his anger, the force exploded out of him in a furious shockwave, shredding all of A5 section, before finally moving back into an intact section, a blast door shuttering down behind him, and pressure returning to the room. 

“Lord Avarus! Someone get a bacta tank ready,” Xanatos called, racing inelegantly down the corridor, Qui-Gon felt his lip curling. 

“I’m fine,” he growled. “Loose that ship and I will skin every single person on this ship alive,” he bit into the communicator, feeling the ship begin to move under his feet shortly after, making his way back to the bridge. 

It took him a moment to realise that the emergency lighting wasn’t on anymore, he was just carrying so much darkness with him that it drowned out the lights as he walked. A stormcloud approaching the bridge, his every ship making the ship vibrate with his anger, as if it were a living, breathing thing all on its own.

_Master! Master, I’m trying, I’m trying to - I did it, master I did it I - no no no no NO!_

He felt distress ring through their bond, and then, suddenly, nothing at all. 

“OBI-WAN,” he roared, into the force, down their bond and aloud, the crew on the bridge cringing away from him as the power of his shout hurt their ears. 

He wasn’t dead, even in death force sensitives - especially ones as bright as Obi-Wan - didn’t suddenly disappear, their presence lingered, they joined the force, they didn’t vanish from it. Which meant that Obi-Wan sudden and complete absence could mean only one thing; they’d put a suppression collar on him. 

Fury bubbled out of him, the force becoming a palpable thing as he filled it with his rage, at these jedi who would dare do such a thing. Their fledgling soul bond was still young and volatile, and Qui-Gon had no concept of how much damage this could be doing to him, but he felt a hollowness in his heart that physically hurt him, that wasn’t simply his emotions. 

He heard a loud creaking groan as he found his crackling fury difficult to control, putting the bridge under strain and he ground his teeth, watching as his ship and the one Obi-Wan was on were trapped in a stalemate; the Deimos not fast enough to catch up, and the jedi’s ship not fast enough to escape. 

“Lord Avarus,” Xanatos said, voice soft and touching Qui-Gon’s arm as if to try and calm him, and Qui-Gon threw him against a wall hard enough to dent the metal. He was still breathing, where he lay crumpled on the floor, slowly dragging himself into a sitting position, and Qui-Gon paid him no mind. 

“Should we fire on the ship?” One of his idiot lieutenants asked, and Qui-Gon wrapped a band of force around his throat and squeezed. The hurt that wasn’t his own, that was the bond struggling and fighting, desperate to find it’s other half, was growing louder with each passing moment, and Qui-Gon Was forced to channel it, rather than ignore it, adding pain to his anger.

“My padawan is on that ship,” Qui-Gon growled; he wasn’t sure if that one was still alive when he released him. 

“They haven’t made the jump to hyperspace, and if they haven’t by now then something must be wrong with their jump drive,” an ensign said, he was radiating calm, and Qui-Gon thought he might promote him if anyone on his bridge survived the day. 

He thought about what Obi-Wan had said - what he had been trying to say before he was viciously silenced - he had done something, and now Qui-Gon felt sure he had managed to tamper with the hyperdrive. They would fix it quickly if they could, but Qui-Gon could not squander this chance. He would follow the jedi all the way back to Coruscant if he had to, he would burn that disgusting concrete planet to the ground to get his pet back, he would raze the jedi temple and slaughter everyone inside it, to make sure they never came for him again. 

“Prepare The Viper. Let’s see how they like to be boarded,” Qui-Gon ordered over the comms in the hangar bay, leaving the bridge and heading towards the hangar. 

The Viper was a vicious little ship, fast and sharp and built just for this. It was larger than a standard boarding pod, the size of a shuttle and able to go deeper into space without support, make a single hyperdrive jump - all you needed to get away from whoever you just boarded. But what really made it nasty was the drill like nose to the ship, able to pierce any hull and once inside an enemy ship, then the drill opened up and latched itself onto the walls, like the thick legs of a spider.

It was a prototype and Qui-Gon thought about killing anyone who knew the design, so that no one else could get their hands on one of the ships. So that they could never be used against him, just thinking about what could have happened if the jedi had had a viper made his anger grow. 

By the time he reached the hanger he felt so wrapped in the dark that he wondered if he could stop the entire hammerhead if he only tried. But should he fail, it was valuable time wasted, and Obi-Wan might slip from his grasp. Every second he had that collar on threatened their bond, and Qui-Gon didn’t wait for the hastily assembled strike team to have finished boarding the ship, leaving half of them and a limping Xanatos behind. 

The troops that had made it onto the viper inside had the good sense not to mention their thing numbers. 

The Viper was fast over short distances, significantly more so than a large lumpering spaceship, and it caught up with the jedi’s ship easily. Qui-Gon rammed into the ship with the Viper’s drill and the smaller ship broke the hull easily with a resolute crunching sound, winding the Viper in tighter and more securely as they drilled into the hull of the larger ship. 

When the Viper opened its drill, gouging into the side of the ship and making itself immovable without the command code to do so, Qui-Gon strode out onto the ship, choking the light out of the ship with the swarm of dark energy he brought with him. He felt out with the force and found almost a full complement of crew. And down in the bowels of the ship where the brig was he felt two strong force signatures. He knew that Obi-Wan was down there with the jedi, that they would be telling him lies as they severed the bond between them. He wouldn’t allow it. 

The metal of the ship creaked around him as he walked, strained under the storm rolling in with him. He did not run, just kept his focus on the two heavy force signatures as he headed down through the decks. They were tracking his movements through the ship, he knew because he bumped into no one, they were deliberately avoiding him, as if that would spare them. 

The jedi stayed put, so Qui-Gon continued downwards, his troops were going in a different direction, no doubt heading to the bridge as they were trained to do, to take control of the ship and assist from there, systematically clearing each room. They were not a full complement, but they were well trained in what they did, and how Qui-Gon looked upon failure. 

He reached a set of blast doors at the entrance to the brig, as if they would stop him, the jedi just past the wall. They were stupid, if they thought a blast door was going to stop him, he had never felt more powerful. He stood in front of the doors, pictured his Obi-Wan just beyond them, and reached out with his hand. He shut his eyes and let the darkside roll through him, like a cresting wave; a blast door was nothing compared to a pod, it had no engine, wasn’t trying to pull away from him, and Qui-Gon was almost surprised, by the ease with which he ripped it away. 

The single moment of surprise that showed in the jedi’s eyes as the door was simply torn away would have been satisfying, if the sight before him hadn’t added more fuel to the fiery anger burning through him. Obi-Wan was in a cell, forcefield in front of him and a suppression collar too tight around his neck, biting into the skin. He lit up when he saw him, but Qui-Gon didn’t need a force bond to know Obi-Wan was in pain, the growing pit of hurt that was opening wide in Qui-Gon as their bond searched for its other half, but Qui-Gon was channeling it, using that pain to make him stronger still. Attachment had never been _weakness_. 

Calmly, Qui-Gon stepped onto the ripped out blast door, lying flat on the floor, bowing the metal beneath it, and slowly, he held his lightsaber by his side and lit it, blade pointing down. 

“You will step away from my padawan, and return what is _mine_ ,” Qui-Gon said, his voice was cold and the lights in the brig were beginning to dim, swarmed by him, the red light of his saber becoming the brightest in the room, until the greens of the jedi lit up too. “Understand, no matter what happens here, you both die. There is no deal for you, there is nothing that could spare you from me now. But hand my padawan back over to me, and I won’t kill each and every person on your ship. I wonder how many orphans you’ll create today?”

“We do not make deals with sith,” the cerean said, resolute in that frustrating way jedi were; but Qui-Gon was not feeling frustrated today, his blood was pumping, he wanted a fight. But his priority was - would always be - his padawan. 

“Very well,” Qui-Gon replied, showing his teeth in a feral smile at odds with the calm way he was speaking, unnerving the jedi. 

Then, quick as a flash, he laid his hand on the control panel for the cells, and sent a surge of the force through it, frying the system and releasing the force field keeping Obi-Wan in his cell as the jedi lunged for him, sabers raised. With a vicious arc of his own saber and a heaving swell of dark force energy, Qui-Gon beat them both back at once. 

“Master!” Obi-Wan called, whimpering, voice broken with pain and Qui-Gon could feel more darkness draw around him at the sound. He looked up as Obi-Wan reached into his cloak and threw Qui-Gon his lightsaber, still on his belt. Qui-Gon caught it and lit it, chuckling darkly as the jedi couldn’t find a way to get behind him and flank him. He was looming in the doorway, it was the only exit, and there was not enough space to try and jump over him - and perhaps they were smart enough to know they would die if they tried it. 

“Oh you simple fools. You didn’t check him for weapons,” Qui-Gon mocked, slashing both sabers against the floor and making sparks fly as the jedi backed away, tried to regroup. But losing ground in a dead end like this was fatal. “Pet,” he said, Obi-Wan’s was clawing at his neck, trying to get the collar off as the pain continued to grow, but he still managed to look at Qui-Gon. “Which one has the key for that abomination around your neck?” He asked, and the jedi rushed him again. 

They came at him together, in sync and Qui-gon caught each of them blades on one of his, laughing in a twisted snarl as more pain built inside him, more anger a the red marks blooming around Obi-Wan’s throat. He was certain that even Sidious would have been no match for him in that moment. 

“The human!” Obi-Wan called, voice a loud sob but staying in his cell where he was safest, knowing he would only be struck down first, entering such a fray without a weapon, or access to the force to guide him. 

“You die first,” Qui-Gon growled at the man. They met in a clash of sabers, Qui-Gon didn’t have to think, only move, the darkness in the force knowing where he needed to be before he did and guiding him there. 

The jedi forced him to block on two fronts, attacking him in tandem, one going for his left side, one his right, but with Obi-Wan’s blade blocking them was almost child’s play. They were jedi masters, they were not slow, and yet in this moment, it felt to Qui-Gon as if they were. It was him, and he knew it, he was so in tune with the force he felt as though he was reverberating with it, and in truth, they didn’t stand a chance. 

With a blow of Obi-Wan’s blue saber and a bush of the force, he sent the cerean skidding backwards, able to focus all of his attention on the human for a few moments, but a few moments was all he needed. He went on the offensive immediately, pummelling the jedi with the strength of his blows, the jedi struggling to block the speed with which they came from two sabers, the impossible speed Qui-Gon was moving with. The jedi managed to block five, before Qui-Gon caught his lightsaber between red and blue, trapping it. He moved his blades down fast and sharp, severing the human’s hands with the deadly and elegant movement.

The jedi screamed, looking down at his burning stumps in horror, a look that would be fixed on his face forever more as Qui-Gon cut his head from his shoulders and sent the body slumping to the floor. It was too dangerous for Obi-Wan to leave his cell, so Qui-Gon reached into the jedi’s pockets with the force, found the controller and sent it flying towards his padwan. The extra time it took to do that had him turning only just in time to block the cerean jedi’s attacks as she rengaged, her face stoic, pretending as jedi felt forced to do, that the death of her friend had effected her not at all. 

In his awkward block, she managed to disarm his right hand, sending his own saber flying, clanging against a wall. She rained down a flurry of blows in quick secession, Qui-Gon blocking them all but unable to reach out and pull his saber back to him with the way she demanded his attention. 

She was relentless, but then the bond suddenly slammed back into Qui-Gon’s awareness, the pain evaporating and replaced with pure elation, relief and love from his padawan. Then, for a single second, Qui-Gon felt the light rush through him as Obi-Wan flooded back into his senses, brining it with him as returned to Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon felt for a brief, blissful moment, a kind of harmony within him that was impossible to describe, like the perfect note of a tuning fork, or the golden ratio in a breathtaking golden flower. 

It disappeared from his as quickly as it had come as the dark rushed back in and bayed for blood, but Qui-Gon knew what it had been: perfect balance within him. The perfect balance of himself as Obi-Wan. 

As brief as it had been, Qui-Gon felt renewed, alight with the force, and quickly took back control in their bout. The bond almost hurt as it almost violently stitched itself back together, but it also drove Qui-Gon on, made him hyper aware of everything around him. Their sabers clashed together, pushing against one another, locked in what she thought was a stalemate, and Qui-Gon smiled, reached out with his now-free hand and the dark in this moment of pause, and crunched all of the bones in one of her ankles with the force. 

She cried out in shock and pain, crumple to the floor, her saber falling from her hand just from the suddenness of what had happened, and Qui-Gon picked it up, tucked it into his cloak. She screamed as he pressed his blade into the thigh on her other leg, making it impossible for her to walk. 

Satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere, Qui-Gon swept over to Obi-Wan and cradled his face in his hands. 

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked, searching Obi-Wan’s green eyes. 

“Yes master, yes I’m okay,” Obi-Wan replied, but he was exhausted, Qui-Gon could tell from the droop in his shoulders and the starin in his eyes. No doubt an effect of the collar, of trying to fight it, of the pain of their bond screaming out in warning. 

Qui-Gon kissed him, drawing Obi-Wan into his space and stroking his thumbs over Obi-Wan’s cheekbones. Obi-Wan sagged against him, relief washing through him and beginning to tremble as the adrenalin wore off. 

“Master they - the collar. It hurt,” he whimpered, and Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around him, gathering Obi-Wan to his chest and offering more complete comfort as Obi-Wan shook. “I thought they were going to - I, I was scared you wouldn’t get to me.” Obi-Wan admitted on a whimper. 

“Oh pet,” Qui-Gon soothed. “Even had they stolen you all the way to Coruscant, I would have found you, and I would have destroyed the planet just to get you back.” He felt Obi-Wan shiver in his arms, and held his padawan tighter, waiting until Obi-Wan was the one to pull away, his eyes turning to the surviving jedi so dispassionately that the light side master should have been proud. As it was she was too busy screaming as she held her ruined ankle. 

Qui-Gon picked up the suppressed collar from the floor, and forced it onto her neck. Not difficult, with how limited her moment was. He then straightened, and pulled Obi-Wan into his side by his hand, linking their fingers together, pleased when Obi-Wan rested his head on his shoulder, not looking at the jedi at all. 

“How did you know where my ship was,” Qui-Gon asked, voice outwardly calm but carrying on it a dangerous frisson of dark force energy. The intense darkness around him had begun to dissipate as the bond was returned to him, but he was still thrumming with it, and he knew it wouldn’t stop until both the jedi were dead and this ship destroyed. 

Predictably, the jedi kept stoically silent. No matter, he hadn’t expected her to tell him, he would extract that information with the far more malleable crew manning the ship. 

“I wonder what happens, if a jedi dies with one of these things around their neck. Can you even reach the force, become one with it as you jedi like to comfort yourselves with, or are you just trapped forever?” Qui-Gon mused, and finally, he got fear from the jedi, her eyes going wide and tugging at the collar around her neck. Tucked in to his side, Obi-Wan was silent. “Let’s find out, shall we.”

Slowly, so that she would feel it, Qui-Gon ran Obi-Wan’s bright blue saber through her gut. An undeniably fatal, but sluggish wound. It would take her long, painful minutes to die, and she had no force to comfort herself with. He didn’t stay to watch, merely picked up his fallen saber and ignored her as the life drained out of her. 

“Master, can we go home please,” Obi-Wan asked, voice weak and body shaking, tears gathering at his eyes. 

“Of course pet, come here,” Qui-Gon said, lifting Obi-Wan up easily with one hand around his back, and the other under his legs. His padawan was light, and he was still so strong with the dark side, that he felt like a feather in his arms. 

“I can walk,” Obi-Wan said, but he made no move to try and get out of Qui-Gon’s arms, and he felt nothing but relief through their newly rejoined bond, throbbing in both their minds as it clawed itself back together. 

“Yes, but I am going to carry you anyway,” Qui-Gon replied, feeling the suffocating darkness sloughing off of him and his entire being calming, as Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon’s neck, and tucked his face into his nape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I love each and every one of you <3 tune in next time for the return of the horniness, but there is also *whispers* //feelings// ＼(^-^)／


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been five days and I hate that?? Kink week stole my time away from this story and I had a busy weekend but IM BACK NOW and the updates to return to every day/ever other day until we get this puppy done ᕦ(ò_óˇ) ᕦ(ò_óˇ)
> 
> To beg your forgiveness this wound up as a bumper 9k chapter, so enjoy that my loves, i have no control over my own word count??
> 
> Also of course! Your comments!! I'm dead and dying constantly!! I have ascended!!! I frequently stay up until 2am on work nights writing because I love you all so much!! 
> 
> Warnings foooooor: spanking, come inflation (woops i wasn't expecting that either), an unlikely amount of orgasms

Obi-Wan sank into the feeling flowing through him as he moved between the forms of the kata Qui-Gon had made for him, what felt like so long ago. It was difficult, far more challenging than any of the standard forms taught at the temple, every movement required a deeper dip, a more pronounced turn, a further reach. But Obi-Wan could feel the way the force seemed to be harmonising around him, as he hit every form perfectly.

He had felt off kilter, ever since the incident with the jedi, unbalanced and unsettled. He understood why, he had made a choice, and not one he regretted in the slightest. But Still, to see a dream that he had held on to for so long felt like a piece of his identity had been cut away. But the jedi had never been what he wanted them to be, and he should have known that from the moment they sent him to Bandomeer. 

He wondered what it meant for him; he didn’t feel suddenly served from the light as a part of him had feared he would be, his eyes hadn’t turned yellow as he realised his place was by his master’s side. In truth, nothing had really changed at all, even though internally, Obi-Wan felt like there should be some physical sign of what had happened. It had felt momentous, to him. 

Despite his words, Qui-Gon hadn’t killed everyone aboard the jedi ship, Obi-Wan had been able to soothe his temper enough to spare them. They had only been following ordered, as far as they had been aware, it had been a rescue mission. It was the jedi alone that had decided to turn it into a kidnapping, and the crew were not responsible for that. 

It hadn’t been easy to dissuade his master, but he had been exhausted, and so overwhelmed with relief upon seeing him again, that it had been easy to distract him from his more violent plans, in favour of more pleasurable. His master was much more agreeable, after he’d had his hands on Obi-Wan’s body again; gentle and thorough. 

Losing his dream of the jedi had at least made one thing clearer to Obi-Wan, something that he had known for a while, but hidden deep inside himself, too cowardly to admit it, even to himself. It felt liberating now: he was in love with Qui-Gon Jinn, and had been for a while now. 

He was smiling as he moved through the kata. However much his memories of what had happened with the jedi loomed over him, that thought fought against it, settled and balanced him, made the force feel at peace around him once again. It had been less than forty eight hours since the incident, and Obi-Wan had slept for most of it, his master only rarely leaving his sleeping side at all. Obi-Wan knew because he could feel it, even sleeping. 

At first, when the force collar had been shut around his neck, Obi-Wan had thought that it was the loss of his connection that was causing him pain; and it was certainly jarring, a sense that had guided him his entire life suddenly cut off from him so completely. But it should have been like losing his sight - disconcerting, devastating, but not painful in the traditional sense - but what Obi-Wan had felt was more akin to losing a limb and the wound left bloody. 

When he realised that it was their bond, trying hard to find it’s other half and rebelling when it couldn’t, causing him pain as it began to shrivel, yawning out inside Obi-Wan like a tangible thing. Obi-Wan had never had a training boond at the temple, because he had never had a jedi master, but he knew that training bonds did not work in that way. They weren’t as desperate, or as needy; not as consuming. 

Obi-Wan had slept so much that they hadn’t spoken about it, and when he woke up, what he had really wanted was to spend the day training, to try and rediscover some normalcy. So they were doing kata’s, his master silent as Obi-Wan glided through the one he had made for him; possibly Obi-Wan’s favourite, of all of his many gifts. 

“Perfect,” his master breathed as Obi-Wan attained the final position and held it for a few long seconds, his body leaning forward, legs positioned in a half lunge, and hand outstretched towards his master. 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan blushed. 

“You are so talented, pet, I had thought it would take you longer to master such a complicated kata, but I should know better than to underestimate you anymore,” his master said, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to be happily reeled in for a kiss.

“You know master, when you first showed this to me, you said you’d tell me what it’s name, Tilara Kimara, means when I mastered it,” Obi-Wan reminded, playing with the collar of his master’s clothes. He had wondered ever since his master had first showed it to him, first used those words from his home planet, but he hadn’t pushed, had let it drive him to master the form that much faster. 

“I did, didn’t I,” Qui-Gon hummed, carding his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair and speaking softly. “It has no direct translation into standard, but I suppose the closest would be ‘light of my heart’.”

“And you made it just for me?” Obi-Wan asked, biting his lip and looking up at his master as his chest clenched and thudded in his chest.

“Yes pet, just for you.”

“Our bond, do you know what it is? I only know it can’t be a training bond, from everything I have heard, they don’t feel like that, don’t react like that when they’re blocked. Or is it just different with a sith, I don’t - I don’t know much about things like this,” Obi-Wan said, feeling embarrassed and trying not to fidget. He knew what he hoped for. 

“It’s a soul bond, pet,” his master replied, his hands had fallen to Obi-Wan’s hips, his fingers slotting over the possessive bruises he had left there shortly after rescuing Obi-Wan from the jedi. 

“How did that happen?” Obi-Wan asked, looking up at his master through his lashes, somewhere between coy and shy, and he blushed when his master chuckled. 

“I imagine it happened because I am very much in love with you pet, and have been for some time,” his master replied, easily, as if it had become as simple to him as brushing his hair in the mornings. 

“I love you too, master. I have for longer than I felt ready for,” Obi-Wan admitted, even though his master must already know. A soul bond couldn’t form without intense feelings from both sides of the bond. Soul bonds were dangerous, volatile things at first, and even after they had settled, they were possessive and needy things. Among the jedi they were banned, the forming of one considered grounds for expulsion from the order. And Obi-Wan couldn’t contain his smile. 

“Oh pet,” his master murmured, moving his hands from Obi-Wan’s hips to his face, encompassing him and drawing him into a long, demanding kiss, his tongue pressing into Obi-Wan’s mouth as if he were trying to commit it all to touch memory; as if he didn’t know it by heart already. 

The kiss lingered, and gradually, Obi_Wan felt Qui-Gon open up his half of the bond completely, feelings of love swarming him in an unstoppable torrent; but with his master’s hands on his face, he knew that he wouldn’t drown. Less elegantly, Obi-Wan opened up his own end of the bond, and their kiss broke off as they shared a gasp, when the two halves of the bond met properly, pulsing between them. Qui-Gon’s darkness sweeping up around his light, their love a powerful - almost tangible - force between them, every way they touched physically echoed metaphysically in the force. For all the jedi’s meditations, they would never know balance like this. 

“Master?”

“Yes pet,” his master replied, their foreheads resting together, his master’s thumb brushing lovingly over his cheek. 

“I was wondering if I could have some new clothes?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, feeling his master’s surprise. “I don’t wish to emulate the jedi, I am finding my own way, with you to help guide me. I don’t want to dress like a people who abandoned me, and who tried to snatch me away from the only person who never has,” Obi-Wan explained softly, willing himself not to cry as he was gathered up in his master’s arms more tightly. 

“You will have them by tomorrow,” his master promised, dropping a kiss to the crown of Obi-Wan’s head, chuckling as Obi-Wan wiggled, gripped his shirt tightly and pulled his master down for another kiss, and then another, and another; reeling himself into Qui-Gon’s space until they were pressed flush together. “Pet, you almost seem like you would like me to get you out of these clothes right now.”

“Please,” Obi-Wan replied, whimpered when his master nipped at his lower lip and tugged a little. 

“Hmm, I had plans for you this evening, and dinner will be served soon. I think you can wait,” his master teased, running a finger along Obi-Wan’s jaw. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan replied in a whiny voice, opening his mouth easily when his master’s finger travelled to his lips, sucking on the digit in a way that made himself blush as his master chuckled. 

“Patience, pet, is important to any force user, and I don’t think you have fully taken on that lesson just yet,” his master teased.

“I have!” Obi-Wan protested, he never rushed in any of his training exercises. It was just that _this_ was an entirely different scenario.

“Hmm well then you can prove it to me by waiting until after dinner,” his master smiled that old, dangerous smile of his again, and Obi-Wan knew that he wasn’t going to win. 

“Fine,” he huffed, turning and going to leave the salle and head to the dining room. 

“No yet, pet, there is still twenty minutes of training left, and there won’t be any food served until then either,” his master stopped him, and Obi-Wan didn’t bother to contain his second huff.

His master made him run through three of the more standard kata forms, stepping in and putting his large hands on Obi-Wan’s body under the guise of helping his posture, but Obi-Wan knew that his forms were perfect, and his master was only doing it to tease him. Those big hands running all over Obi-Wan’s body always made him hot, made him crave more contact from his master. He was tempted to take off his shirt, but he knew that would only make the way he was feeling worse, and he had no doubt his master fully intended to make him wait until after dinner. 

“I think that is twenty minutes,” his master said, while helping him fully extend into a sitra stretch with his hands high on Obi-Wan’s legs.

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan said, voice slightly strained and panting; from how high up his legs his master’s hands were than the exertion of the stretch. He made a needy noise in the back of his throat, when his master ran his palm over the growing bulge in his pants, hsi cock thickening already from his touch. 

“I love the way you respond to me. You come so easily for me, don't you, your body sings under my attention,” his master praised, rubbing with a teasingly light touch over Obi-Wan’s half-hard cock.

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied, not bothering to suppress his whimper when he knew his master liked it so much. 

“Would you like to get some dinner, pet?” His master asked.

“No,” Obi-Wan whined, reaching for his master when his leg was removed from the stretch. “I don’t want dinner,” he grumbled, trying to maneuver Qui-Gon between his legs, Qui-Gon chuckled as he gripped Obi-Wan’s thighs and squeezed.

“Ah well then, I guess we should continue training until you are hungry.”

“Masteeer,” Obi-Wan complained, his master had been deliberately riling him up all afternoon, he didn’t want to wait. “Please.”

“I remember telling you that you needed to wait until after dinner, and as you are not hungry yet, then it looks as though dinner will also be waiting for a little while.”

“No, master, please you know what I want.”

“Yes, and you are learning patience, aren’t you,” his master teased, running his hands back up Obi-Wan’s thighs, so close to his hardening cock. “Every time you whinge it is only making me see how badly you need this lesson.”

“Can we have dinner, please,” Obi-Wan huffed, settling on a new approach. His master chuckled, and ducked down low enough to kiss his lips. 

“Of course pet.” He helped Obi-Wan to his feet, and with a firm hand on Obi-Wan’s lower back, guided him through the ship and to the corridors. Obi-Wan was only glad that the tent in his pants hadn’t yet become entirely obscene, as he had n doubt his master would have marched him through the hallways regardless. 

Their food was being laid out by the time they reached the dining hall, plates covered with metal cloches. Obi-Wan had no doubt that whatever it was on the plates would be absolutely delicious, but he resented its very existence at the moment. His master sat down in the chair at the end of the table, as he always did, with Obi-Wan place laid on the seat to his right, as it always was. But after a small moment of decision, Obi-Wan ignored his chair and knelt down at his master’s feet instead, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Oh my sweet,” his master smiled, running a hand down from Obi-wan’s hair to his cheek, and petting the skin there. “Would you like me to feed you?”

“No master,” Obi-Wan complained, putting on his best petulant look and running his hands up Qui-Gon’s legs, only to have them caught by Qui-Gon’s own, much larger hand, and removed from him. 

“You have three choices, pet. You can sit at the table and eat your food, you can let me feed you your dinner at my feet, or you can go to bed right now and I will not join you until morning. Which will it be?” His master asked, cupping Obi-Wan’s chin in his hand. 

“Why do I have to wait?” Obi-Wan replied petulantly, and not answering the question his master had asked. 

“Because my love, then when I let you come, you enjoy it even more than usual. And I intend to make you enjoy this evening _thoroughly_ ,” Qui-Gon said, voice low and making Obi-Wan shiver. “Now, answer my question before I decide to punish you instead of please you this evening.”

“I’d like to stay here, master,” Obi-Wan replied dutifully, fidgeting where he sat as no pillow had been set out for him, surprising his master with his decision to sit at his feet. 

“Good boy, you like it when I feed you, don’t you,” Qui-Gon said, tearing off a chunk of warm bread and dunking it in the soup they had been given to start, he waited until it had stopped dripping and fed it to Obi-Wan. It was rich and creamy, with some kind of burnt off alcohol giving the soup a bit of a kick. 

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied after chewing and swallowing his mouthful. 

He sat quietly by his master’s feet, watching Qui-Gon eat a few bites himself before feeding one or two to Obi-Wan. Eating from his master’s fingers always made him sink a little, and it certainly was doing nothing to calm his building arousal, only growing harder in his pants every time he was allowed to suck on his master’s fingers for a little longer than he should have. 

The food was delicious, as it always was, but Obi-Wan barely tasted it in favour of concentrating all of his senses on his master. He looked so good like this, sat above Obi-Wan, feeding him when he decided he wanted to, letting Obi-Wan greedily suckle on his fingers, under the ruse of getting all of the taste of his food off. 

His hair was completely down and loose today, rare for him to be without even his half ponytail, and Obi-Wan loved the way it slipped over his shoulders, the way it looked tucked back behind his ear when pieces slipped forward and annoyed him. 

He liked running his fingers through it, and hoped he would get a chance to that evening. He liked the way it made a curtain around them, when his master was on top of him, driving into his hole in long, deep thrusts. He shivered just thinking about it, shuffled a little to get closer to his master until he was resting his cheek on his master’s knee and pressing his body into his master’s legs. 

His master raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise didn’t comment as he settled in the new position, gradually inching his knees apart until he was almost straddling his master’s slightly outstretched left leg. 

“Careful pet,” his master warned, when Obi-Wan took a bite from his fingers and sucked, moaning quietly as he rocked his hips down against his master’s leg. 

“Please, master,” Obi-Wan whimpered, even though he could tell that this evening was not going to be one of the times he could get his master to relent, and go against his plans for the evening, in favour of immediate gratification. “I want - ah,” he whimpered as his hard cock rubbed against his master’s high boot. 

“I know what it is you want, pet, you seem very desperate - or very disobedient - this evening, when I have already made it clear when you can get what you want.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan replied, not meaning it in the slightest, which his master well knew. 

“You can rut against my boot if you’re really such a desperate little thing you can’t help yourself. But you are not to come, do you understand me? I don’t want you to spoil my plans for tonight,” his master said, extending his leg a little more so that Obi-Wan could more easily rock his hips against his long black boot. 

“Yes master, I-I understand,” Obi-Wan said, voice hitching as he rubbed himself against his master's boot more shamelessly. He felt so hot, with his master above him, feeding him his food, after his master’s hands had been all over him in the training salle, and what he was saying about tonight was only making Obi-Wan’s excitement grow. 

His master chuckled at him, mocking him gently as he often did when Obi-Wan grew needy like this, and fed Obi-Wan one last bite of dinner, before motioning for a droid to clear up the plates. Obi-Wan whimpered and rocked into his master’s boot more firmly, thinking it was finally time, that his master would take him back to their room and pay real attention to Obi-Wan. But instead Obi-Wan wound up making a helpless noise as his master motioned for desert. 

“But pet you love dessert,” his master replied, even as he pushed his boot up between Obi-Wan’s legs again, pushing it against Obi-Wan’s desperate cock, sending sparks of pleasure flying through Obi-Wan with every rut. It was so dirty, to be getting off like this, at his master’s feet without so much as a hand to help him, it made him even hotter under his clothes.

“Not now,” Obi-Wan whined. “Master please, please I want you to touch me,” Obi-Wan begged, turning his face into the hand that cupped his cheek, so big against his face. Everything about his master was so big compared to him, and Obi-Wan tried to nuzzle his face into his master’s crotch, only to be held back by a firm grip on his hair, tugging and making him whimper, his cock jerk. 

“No pet, don’t make me tell you again,” he said in a warning tone, but Obi-Wan only made a grumpy sound, and ate the bites of cake his master fed him, only getting lightly chided as he sucked on his fingers far more than necessary. 

However, when his master called for a tea to follow his meal, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but moan out a protest, getting his hair pulled again when he tried to reach for his master’s zipper. 

“I see you cannot control yourself this evening,” his master commented blandly, and Obi-Wan whimpered at the feeling of his hair being pulled making his cock pulse as he rutted against his master’s leg. “Such a needy thing, aren’t you. But I want you to be good and be patient for just a little longer, pet. I want to finish my tea, and when I have I am going to walk you back through this ship to our room and have my way with your lovely little body. Does that sound nice?”

“Now,” Obi-Wan moaned, and his master chuckled, pulled on his hair and picked up his tea with the other, blowing on the steaming cup, before putting it down without even drinking any of it. 

“You’re struggling, aren’t you,” his master chuckled. “Only ten, perhaps fifteen more minutes, but that feels like _hours_ for you right now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan moaned, tried to pout but it got lost as he bit his lip when his master pushed his boot up into his cock again, encouraging Obi-Wan to rut against him. His cock was so hard, little shocks were going through him as he chased his orgasm, even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to, that his master had told him to wait.

“Here pet, I know how you like it,” his master said, pressing two fingers against Obi-Wan’s lips, which he sucked in greedily.

He knew what his master expected, that the fingers in his mouth, being able to suck on his master one way or another, would help calm his desperation like it usually did, lull him into something more settled and soft. But Obi-Wan was already on edge, and sucking on his master’s fingers only drove him closer to it, his mouth being filled while he rocked against his master’s boot like a desperate, naughty thing and chased an orgasm he knew he wasn’t allowed to have. 

His master’s leg was firm beneath him, and while he was sipping on his tea, Obi-Wan reached into his own pants and moved his straining cock so that he could push it better against his master’s leg. Rutting harder and harder, Obi-Wan began to pant and moan around the fingers in his mouth, and he noticed the moment his master realised what he was doing, but he was close, so close, and he continued to race after it. 

His master pulled his fingers from Obi-Wan’s mouth and put them back in his hair, pulling roughly to get Obi-Wan off of him, deny him his release, but he had been on the edge already, and the sharp tug at his hair was all he needed, coming into his pants with a breathless wail. His climax was short, his master was growling at him but Obi-Wan could barely hear. He couldn’t get the aftershocks to wring through him like usual, unable to get any friction on his pulsing cock, and he whimpered as his orgasm fizzled out too quickly. 

“Are you even listening to me, padawan,” his master said, voice low and dark, and obi-Wan forced his eyes to flutter open and look at him. His pants felt wet and sticky, and he wanted his silly jedi robes off even more than he had before, but his master was glaring at him, clearly not happy with him. He nodded quickly. “Don’t lie to me, pet. What simple rule did I give you?”

“N-not to come,” Obi-Wan replied, his body feeling pent up with the way the aftermath of his orgasm had been completely denied to him, and he whined, the hand in his hair growing tighter as he chased his master’s leg with his hips in a desperate hitch. 

“Did you forget?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan thought about lying, but his master always knew, and had only just warned him about lying. He’d already been naughty and if he pushed it any further he was just as likely to be sent to bed without any attention as he was to get a punishment he enjoyed. 

“No,” he admitted, looking down at his master’s feet for a few beats before his master forced his head back up to look at him while he was speaking. 

“So you deliberately ignored my instruction?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan mumbled, shame beginning to build in him, he should have been able to wait a few more minutes. 

“Well, I’m very disappointed in your Obi-Wan. I want you to go to our room right now. You’re not going to strip off, you’re going to stay in your sticky, messy pants and just pull them down over your bottom. Then you’re going to lie over the side of the bed and wait for me. I am going to finish my tea, and when I am done, I will come and find you in our room, and spank you until your bottom is so red you can’t sit tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan squeaked, hsi cock trying to perk back up again just from his master’s words. 

“You are _not_ to touch yourself. You are not to put your hand to yourself or rut that slutty cock of yours against the bedding while you wait. If you do, I will put your cock in a cage for a week,” his master warned, and Obi-Wan felt his mouth go dry. He hated the cage, and he could never convince his master to take it off early. 

“I’m sorry master, I’ll be good I promise,” Obi-Wan whimpered. 

“Go,” his master ordered, letting go of Obi-Wan’s hair. 

He scurried out of the dining room as quickly as he could. The come in his pants was cooling and uncomfortable, a mess in his pants that was his own fault, and his master was not going to let him be rid of any time soon. He tried to ignore the people he saw in the corridors, he knew what he looked like, with flushed cheeks and walking a little awkwardly; it was difficult to care about what they thought, when his mind was occupied by what his master was going to have in store for him.

When he reached their room he did as he was told, pulling his pants down over his bottom but leaving them up at the front, lying himself over the edge of the bed, his toes struggling to reach the floor with how high the mattress sat. His master made him wait, every second that he wasn’t there making the anticipation build again and embarrassment seep in, as he lay there with his bottom on show. 

He loved being spanked by his master, the way his big hand would cover so much of his bottom sent thrills through him every time. The sting he could feel, so much worse when his master went slowly, let the feeling sink in and begin to wear between every spank, versus when he did them in quick succession, and then let the pain scream out all at once in white hot pain and pleasure. He even loved it when his master spanked his hole, and his cock and balls, even though it hurt, it also drove him to orgasm faster than anything else. 

Lying there on the bed, exposed and sinking into that soft headspace, it took all of his willpower not to rock his hardening cock against the bedding. But he didn’t want to be caged, and he didn’t want to go to bed without being touched just because he was desperate, and he forced his hips to stay still, leaning back on his toes to pull his hips away from the bed and make it easier for himself, determined to be good for his master now. 

His master made him wait, because of course he did, but Obi-Wan wasn’t sure for how long, his grasp on time always slipping away. He began to worry as he was left there, needy and exposed for a long time, that vulnerable, flayed open feeling growing in his bones and the insidious thoughts along with it; what if he had been too bad, what if his master wasn’t coming, and didn’t want him anymore because he was so desperate and disobedient, what if - 

Obi-Wan heard the door to their rooms open, felt the imposing presence of his master enter the room, instantly washing away the thoughts that were beginning to swarm around him, and making him relax, despite what was coming. He stayed still and quiet like a good pet while his master moved leisurely around the room, taking off his boots and changing from his suit into hsi loose pyjama bottoms and the dark red robe that he kept, tied together at the front loosely enough to show some of his toned chest. 

He disappeared into the ‘fresher, but Obi-Wan didn’t hear the shower running, only the tap, though his master seemed to take twice the amount of time he normally did in there before bed. By the time he came back in the room, Obi-Wan felt agitated, like his skin was a size too small for him without his master, but it soothed away as soon as he touched him. 

“How many do you think you deserve?” His master asked, rubbing a hand over the skin of his bottom, slightly cold from the way he’d been exposed for so long. This question was always a test, to see if Obi-Wan really was sorry, to see if Obi_Wan needed more than his master already planned to give him. 

“T-thirty?” Obi-Wan replied, knowing he had been disobedient and that he would deserve every one. 

“Hmm yes I agree,” his master said, pressing a hand between Obi-Wan’s shoulder blades, until he buried his head in the bedding and had to turn his face to be able to breathe properly. “I expect you to count.”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan said, body tensing up in anticipation and letting out a loud moan when his master’s hand came down on him the first time, pleasure and pain shooting up his spine, his cock going from interested to hard almost instantly. “One!” 

His master went slow, letting the burning sting settle into his skin each time before lending the next spank and lighting Obi-Wan up again, made so much more intense by the time left between them. The skin on his ass was hot and glowing, simultaneously numb on the surface and absolutely screaming just beneath as his master spanked him hard all across his skin. 

Obi-Wan counted every one, though as each spank grew hard, Obi-Wan felt his body being pushed into the bedding, no longer able to keep his cock away, his master causing friction as he rocked Obi-Wan against the bed with the force of each smack of his hand. 

“T-twenty,” Obi-Wan moaned out, he felt like he was on fire, tears were welling in his eyes and he couldn’t help the little hitch his hips gave against the bedding as his master waited for the sting to set in before landing his next spank. He felt two strong hands around his hips and himself being pulled backwards just a few inches, then his face flaming red as his master reached around and felt his hard cock through his clothes, leaking and adding to the mess in his pants. 

“Oh pet, you are so sweet aren’t you. Are you going to come, just from having your ass spanked?” His master asked, stroking Obi-Wan’s wet cock a few times in his hand, before pushing him back against the bed. 

“Am- am I allowed?” Obi-Wan asked, a slight sniffle in his voice and wiping quickly at the tears starting to spill. It was almost worst when his master stopped spanking him, the pain having a moment to settle in and burn through him, making his cock throb. 

“Yes pet, you can come. But know that my plans for this evening include making you come over and over again, no matter how exhausted your body is,” his master teased, and Obi-Wan shivered. 

“Want you to come too, master,” Obi-Wan mumbled, trying to roll his hips backwards enticingly, but only finding his master’s heated palm. He let out a whine as he felt his master spread him and press his thumb against his hole. 

“Don’t worry my love, I intend to use this greedy little hole of yours until you’re completely full,” his master purred and Obi-Wan gasped at his words, reaching back blindly with a hand to try and grab his master, making him come closer, but he just chuckled, squeezed his hand once before returning to petting his burning ass. “But first, you have ten more spanks, don’t you pet.”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied, feeling himself tense up in anticipation, even though he knew it would make them hurt more. 

His master didn’t hold back, showing Obi-Wan with praise as he showed his backside with hard smacks, but he did at least go a little faster than before, making Obi-Wan feel like he was cresting for over a minute. He rutted against the bedding with his master’s permission, with the hand on his ass encouraging him to do so. 

His master spread him for the last spank and Obi-Wan held his breath knowing what was coming, it coming out in a rush with a loud cry and his cock shooting fresh come into his already sticky pants when his master spanked him over his hole. 

“Thirty!” Obi-Wan managed to moan out around his gasps and cries, relieved when he wasn’t stopped from rubbing against the bedding, enjoying every little wave of pleasure his orgasm could give him. 

“Good boy,” his master soothed, rubbing his hot hand over Obi-Wan’s ass, soothing away the smallest part of the sting. “You’re so lovely like this my love,” his master praised, the new endearment making Obi-Wan struggle to turn onto his back, reach out for his master. Qui-Gon came easily, covering Obi-Wan on the bed and kissing him easily, indulging Obi-Wan for as long as he liked, until his orgasm had faded away and he reached for the bulge in his master’s pants. 

“Please, master,” Obi-Wan said, biting at his lip and running his fingers over Qui-Gon’s cock through the fabric. 

They undressed each other slowly. Qui-Gon peeling Obi-Wan out of his messy clothes, tutting at the old and new come smeared around his cock, wiping him down a little with the removed clothing, before throwing it aside. Sitting up on the bed, Obi-Wan winced at his sore ass but felt determined to help his master undress, working the various buttons and fastenings free until Qui-Gon was finally naked, strong chest and broad shoulders towering over Obi-Wan, his hard cock hanging heavily between his legs. But still he stopped Obi-Wan when he tried to duck forward to suck it. 

“No pet, I love your hot little mouth, but I want to fuck your hole tonight,” his master purred, and Obi-Wan whimpered, begging caught under his armpits and bodily shifted back on the bed. He got the message and shuffled back to the headboard, lying on his back and spreading his legs for his master to settle between. 

“You could have both,” Obi-Wan mumbled, making his master chuckle and kiss his lips sweetly, a gently caress as he rocked his hard cock next to Obi-Wan’s spent one, making him moan from sensitivity, their size different emphasised and sending a tremor through him. 

Qui-Gon reached for the slick and warmed it on his fingers before circling one around Obi-Wan’s hole, still stinging slightly from the hard spank he had received. He massaged Obi-Wan’s rim, going so much slower than Obi-Wan needed anymore, waiting until his breath was starting to shake with need before he pressed one thick finger inside of Obi-Wan’s hole. 

Obi-Wan cried out, his body sensitive and relaxed and he loved the feeling, his master pressing against his prostate and making pleasure lance out through him, in stark contrast to the way his ass was still hurting from his thorough spanking. His master continued going slowly, just like he had with the spanks he’d landed against Obi-Wan, fingering him slowly and not giving Obi-Wan a second finger, no matter how much he begged, until he was probably ready for the third anyway. 

On two fingers, Qui-Gon stretched him gently, scissoring him in tiny little stretches that were more of a tease to Obi-Wan than anything else. He was ready to whine, to beg for more, for faster, when his master kissed his way down his body and took his mostly soft cock into his mouth and sucked. Obi-Wan cried out, head pushing back against the pillow and his back arching as his master sucked on his sensitive cock, quickly getting him hard again by taking him deep and swirling his tongue around the wet head of Obi-Wan’s cock while his fingers pressed against his prostate. 

His master pulled off with a wet pop, satisfied now that Obi-Wan was hard again, and finally pressing a third finger inside of him, the stretch made so easy by how well he’d been stretched on two fingers. Time was slipping through Obi-Wan’s fingers, but he was sure he had been moaning with his master’s fingers in his hole for more than half an hour by the time his master pressed in a fourth as he nipped and tugged at Obi-Wan’s nipples with his teeth. 

“I love the way your cock leaks, Obi-love,” his master purred, and Obi-Wan whimpered as he lapped up some of the precome pooling on his belly. “So wet for me.”

“Master- Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan moaned, Qui-Gon looking up and smiling affectionately at the use of his name, coming easily when Obi-Wan pulled him in for a kiss, long and deep as Qui-Gon spread him on four fingers. Obi-Wan felt on the edge again, after so long with his master’s fingers inside of him, he knew he wasn’t going to last long when the feeling of his master’s cock inside him was usually enough to get him close. 

“Would you like my cock, pet?” His master asked, and Obi-Wan nodded a little frantically, spreading his legs even more. “Hmm, good. I’m going to fuck you until I come, and then I’m going to play with your body for as long as it takes for us to both get hard again, and I’m going to do it all over again. How many times do you think I can make you come in one night? You’ve already managed two.”

“And you,” Obi-Wan said, biting at his lip. “I wanna see how many times you can come too.”

“Are you sure pet, I have _excellent_ stamina, you might get a little tired, waiting for me to exhaust myself in your body,” his master teased, nudging Obi-Wan’s nose with his own, dropping kisses across his face. 

“I want it,” Obi-Wan replied, reaching between them to slick up his hand and start stroking his master’s fat cock, unable to get one hand around the girth of it, making his master groan and thrust into Obi-Wan’s grip, after almost an hour of denying himself. 

“I didn’t stand a chance, did I,” Qui-Gon murmured, making Obi-wan blush from affection and seek out his lips for a kiss. 

“Neither did I,” Obi-Wan mumbled, letting out an excited moan as his master finally pressed the thick head of his cock against his well stretched hole. 

Obi-Wan cried out as Qui-Gon pushed steadily inside of him, feeling stretched obscenely wide as his cock pressed pass the first tight ring of muscle, not stopping in the smooth push of his hips until he was flush against Obi-Wan’s burning ass, cock buried deep inside his hole. Obi-Wan’s body felt alight, he loved the stretch of Qui-Gon inside of him, the way his cock always pressed against his prostate, how deep inside of him his master’s cock could reach.

His master rolled his hips back and thrust forwards once, twice, and Obi-Wan was already coming again, moaning loudly and shooting come across his chest, whimpering as his master chuckled and wrapped a hand around him, milking out all of his orgasm while he slowly fucked him through it. 

“Better?” His master teased, and Obi-Wan flushed with embarrassment - it had been a long time since he hadn’t even managed thirty seconds with his master inside of him before he came - but he nodded anyway, smiled when Qui-Gon kissed him. “Good, my turn.”

Qui-Gon fucked him hard, holding nothing back and knowing all too well how much Obi-Wan loved the way oversensitivity made his body feel, the way it trod somewhere between pain and pleasure as he was driven up the bed, his master’s big cock splitting him open and rubbing against his prostate every time. He begged breathlessly for more, holding on to his master’s shoulders as he was held under his knees, held high and open for his master’s pleasure. Every time his master’s hips smacked against his red, stinging ass a wave of new, confusing pleasure washed through Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon was relentless and Obi-Wan’s cock was throbbing with a tinge of pain as it struggled to get hard again already. The grip on his knees was bruising, his master’s thrusts coming faster and harder until with a growl of Obi-Wan’s name, he felt his master’s cock pulse and fill his ass with come. 

Qui-Gon panted and worked himself through it, grinding into Obi-Wan’s ass until he’d taken every last drop of come. Obi-Wan whimpered when he pulled out, hole feeling as though it was gaping obscenely and going red with embarrassment again when his master manhandled him, pulling two pillows under his hips and angling him in such a way that would make it impossible for any of his master’s spend to drip out of him. 

“This is a little undignified,” Obi-Wan pouted, hips up in the air as his master ran a finger around his wrecked hole. 

“Well, I think you look delicious,” Qui-Gon teased, pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s hole and making him moan to prove his point. “You’re hard again already,” his master smiled, wrapping a loose hand around Obi-Wan’s cock and stroking him gently, raising an eyebrow as Obi-Wan flinched and moaned. “Sensitive?”

“Yeah.”

“You like it?”

“You know I do,” Obi-Wan grumbled, he still felt embarrassed, when Qui-Gon made him talk about things like this. Qui-Gon smiled and kissed his heated cheeks. 

Qui-Gon played with him idly as he kissed Obi-Wan for long minutes, so deeply and thoroughly that Obi-Wan knew his mouth was wet and swollen by the time he was done - not that he ever seemed to be _done_. Even when he leaned away to pay a bit more attention to his cock or hole, he always came back and kissed him again, dropping soft words and endearments to Obi-Wan’s skin in between his caresses. 

Obi-Wan wasn’t passive, running his hands over any part of his master he could reach, enjoying running his hands through Qui-Gon’s hair whenever he was kissing his mouth, tracing the defined lines of his chest when he wasn’t, tugging at his master’s nipples and running his nails down his back. After a little while, Qui-Gon guided Obi-Wan’s hands back to his soft cock, encouraged him to stroke him, and Obi-Wan shivered as he felt it thickening in his hands. 

Qui-Gon fucked him again, slower this time, less desperate as he hadn’t been hard for an hour before burying himself inside of Obi-Wan’s cheeks. His strokes were long and deep, Obi-Wan letting out a little whimper every time his master’s skin slapped against the sensitive spanked skin of his ass, sending fire licking up his spine. His body was over sensitive but his master wasn’t pounding him, was fucking him deep and gentle, guiding Obi-Wan inexorably towards a fourth orgasm even as his body shook with the sensations raging through it. 

“So perfect,” Qui-Gon praised, their kisses devolving into foreheads pressed together and sharing air as Qui-Gon drove them both closer to the edge, one of his hands tight around Obi-Wan’s base and making him whine as he forced Obi-Wan to wait until they both came. He felt electric as Qui-Gon stroked him one, twice and let him spill at the same time he shot hot come into Obi-Wan’s ass. His master’s spend was always copious, and two loads of it inside Obi-Wan’s ass had him feeling full, and he knew his master’s was far from done. 

His master didn’t let him rest that time, only give Obi-Wan a few minutes as they both enjoyed their shared aftershocks before he was pulling out and tipping Obi-Wan’s hips back up again before swallowing down Obi-Wan’s exhausted cock. It took a long time, and Obi-Wan flinched and shook his way through the first ten minutes of his master sucking him before the scaled slipped from too much into not enough again, and despite the lingering pain from too many orgasms, Obi-Wan found himself with his hips pinned down as he tried to fuck up into his master’s mouth. 

Qui-Gon was careful not to let him come, edging Obi-Wan with his mouth for so long Obi-Wan felt dizzy with it, begging his master over and over to let him come, only to be denied, told to wait. He wasn’t sure how long Qui-Gon toyed with him before he finally felt the head of his master’s cock back at his hole, pressing inside Obi-Wan’s well-fucked hole again. 

Obi-Wan whimpered when his master entered him, relieved when Qui-Gon gave him permission to come whenever he wanted, not making him wait this time and coming on his master’s command shortly after, only to realise his mistake as his boneless body sang with hypersensitivity, shuddering and crying his way through every delicious thrust of his master’s hips, shocked when he felt himself come again just minutes after, completely dry but ceasing up and feeling a painful orgasm crash through him as his master ground into his prostate. 

It made his master wild, praising him and fucking into him faster as he recognised Obi-Wan’s painful dry orgasm, his hole tightening around him briefly again and making his master come inside him a third time. He felt so full as his master rolled into Obi-Wan’s body, wringing every last part of his orgasm out of himself, staying inside Obi-Wan a little longer this time before gently pulling his cock free. 

Obi-Wan whimpered as Qui-Gon checked his hole and tilted his hips up at a steeper angle, pushing the drop of come that had tried to escape back inside his sloppy hole with a thick finger. Obi-Wan felt his eyes flickering shut, it was late and his body was exhausted, but he forced his eyes back open as his master kissed him. 

“You can nap if you like, pet, but know that I am going to have you at least twice more tonight,” his master purred, voice dark and deep and rolling through Obi-Wan like intoxicating thunder. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan whined, burying his fingers in Qui-Gon’s hair and kissing him as deeply as his exhausted body could manage. 

He tried to stay awake, his master was running his fingertips all over his body, teasing at his nipples and occasionally brushing over his soft cock, but the touch was as comforting as it was arousing, and Obi-Wan didn’t notice as he drifted off. 

He had no idea how long it had been when he woke up again to the feeling of his master pushing his cock back inside his hole, hard again. Obi-Wan’s body was still strung out and sensitive, spent and exhausted, but his master had someone coaxed his cock back into hardness and it was drooling sluggishly against his belly. 

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan whined, throwing his head back as consciousness swam back to him, hyper aware of the feeling of the thick cock in his ass. “Oh force, please, please Qui-Gon fuck me again,” he whined, surprised by his own desperation as he wrapped his legs around his master’s waist. 

He was overwhelmed with sensation, drifting in and out of awareness from exhaustion and over stimulation as his master fucked into him again, dripping words of praise into Obi-Wan’s ears that were making him just as hot as the thick cock in his hole was. Qui-Gon grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand and pressed it down on his naval, Obi-Wan wailing helplessly as he was able to feel where his master was fucking into him, his cock almost too big for Obi-Wan’s body, and he came again in a painful wave, his cock drooling weak little ropes of come out of the head as he trembled. 

“So good, so good Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon praised, dropping kisses to Obi-Wan’s slack mouth, open in a silent cry as he dug his nails into Qui-Gon’s skin hard enough to leave raised red lines in their wake. 

Qui-Gon came again a little while later, coming hard in Obi-Wan’s ass and making him realise how full of come he felt, belly feeling almost bloated with it, even though that was impossible. Qui-Gon pulled out and made sure his spend stayed inside Obi-Wan once again, petting Obi-Wan’s stomach as he fought weakly against sleep. 

“Just one more, my love, let me have you once more. I know you can do it,” his master coaxed, being more careful with Obi-Wan’s wildly sensitive body this time, keeping his hand to Obi-Wan’s naval, his kisses to Obi-Wan’s face. 

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said, breathless, he would have agreed to anything right then, having reached a previously entirely unknown level of bliss. “One more,” he agreed, even though he was fairly sure it would make him black out, if he was forced to come again. 

“Feel that pet,” his master purred, taking Obi-Wan’s hand and pressing it against Obi-Wan’s lower belly again, laying his own, larger, possessive hand over the top. “There’s a slight bump in your little tummy, you’re so full of me.”

Obi-Wan moaned, his entire body jerking as arousal tried to spread through him again, protests rising up in every one of his nerves. But his master was right and his stomach was just every so slightly distended, he could feel the amount of come stuffed in his hole, and thinking about his master having him one last time made him shake with anticipation.

His master stroked his hair, coaxing him back into sleep as he waited to get hard again, Obi-Wan’s body so clearly shaking with exhaustion. It was longer this time, though still only the small hour so the morning, when Obi-Wan woke to the sensation of his master fucking gently inside of him, hearing himself mewl as he rubbed his cock against his over worked prostate. 

He was still soft, his balls entirely spent even as his master seemed to be able to go one last time, his thick cock driving in and out of Obi-Wan’s wrecked hole. But his master had opened their bond completely, and the pleasure that was roaring through him as he fucked Obi-Wan’s hole was also singing through Obi-Wan’s mind, lighting him up in the new way. He moaned, cock pulsing feebly but unable to come properly, a weak dry orgasm washing sluggishly through his body as he felt his master come inside him one more time. 

“Oh Obi-Wan, you’re so perfect, aren’t you?” He murmured, sounding exhausted himself and dropping kisses to Obi-Wan’s lips.

“I love you, Qui-Gon” Obi-Wan sighed in response, feeling affection and love crash through their bond as his master drew his mouth into one last tired kiss.

“And I you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon breathed. His master was gentle with him, so careful as he pulled out, and Obi-Wan vaguely felt a body wrapping around his and blanketing him with comfort before drifting off to sleep.

By the end of the next day, Obi-Wan’s wardrobe was brimming with new clothes. His master knew him well, and the colours were all still light and soft, but gone were the telltale markers of jedi clothing, instead was something that Obi-Wan felt was uniquely his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed!! Tune in next time for obes being taken along on some of Qui-Gon's buisness, and getting to flex his growing skills


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huzzah, a speedy chapter update (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ i hope you enjoy this one, it was very easy to write which i like to think means it was good?? Who know though, certainly not me.
> 
> The comments continue to bring me a barrage of joy and reasons to live, and to everyone beginning to worry that everything seems happy and there are ten chapters left to go,, well,, you're just gunna have to find out aren't you ¬‿¬ ¬‿¬

“Centre yourself, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, walking around his padawan in a slow circle. He was standing on his head, legs parted to make the balance harder, only one hand on the floor, the other reaching out as he tried to levitate every item in the room that wasn’t nailed down. 

He was doing well, even the benches were off the floor, but he was wobbling every now and then in his headstand, and Qui-Gon laid a hand on his ankle to steady him for a moment, sending a wave of pride through their bond before letting go again. Gone were his jedi robes, instead he wore something lighter, that gave just as easily to dynamic movement, and still in light colours to reflect his padawan’s force presence; though the new outfits were considerably more flattering.

“Good. Now start to rotate everything around the room, we are the eye of a storm, you and I, untouched by the chaos around us. The chaos we cause, if we should chose,” he instructed, proud when Obi-Wan managed it immediately, all of the boxes, plants, tools, datapads and seating now beginning to spin around the room, instinctually missing Qui-Gon with everything as it started to whirl faster and faster. 

The speed of the spinning items was building up a breeze in the room, making Qui-Gon’s hair blow around as he smiled, reaching out with the force to Obi-Wan, finding him in perfect harmony with the force, at peace despite the difficulty of the task Obi-Wan was giving him. 

“Start moving the plants counterclockwise, but keep everything else moving clockwise,” Qui-Gon said, voice quiet, almost inaudible above the growing sound from the building wind Obi-Wan generated, but his padawan heard him without a problem. Gradually, the planets started to slow down to a halt, before moving in the opposite direction, the rest of the spinning items not even slowing in their path. 

“Very good Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon praised, he had known senior apprentices in the temple that didn’t have such fine control of the force, and Obi-Wan hadn’t even had a year of formal training as a padawan yet. Although, he worked himself harder than any padawan Qui-Gon had ever known.

“I want you to locate for me the datapad with the information on Takodana, and pass it to me, but do not stop anything else you are doing,” Qui-Gon said next, continuing to circle Obi-Wan, in the same direction as the plants, filling up the room with a fragrant, earthy smell as they went faster and faster. 

Obi-Wan’s forehead creased in concentration, his growing braid dangling upside down and brushing on the floor. Qui-Gon gave him a few moments, and then he saw the datapad starting to move against the rest of the growing hurricane of items, Obi-Wan had to be careful to have it avoid everything else that was spinning, but slowly he worked it out and into the eye of their personal storm, and it came to rest in Qui-Gon’s hand, who Obi-Wan was still avoiding with all the flying objects, despite his constant movement. 

It was the right datapad, and Qui-Gon quickly flicked through it to check the information on it, nothing too complex, just an initial briefing on the planet, in advance of Qui-Gon’s plans to lead a diplomatic mission to it. 

“Good, now tell me what information is on the datapad, do not lose your storm,” Qui-Gon said next, knowing he was asking an awful lot of Obi-Wan now, and sweat was beginning to glisten on his brow as he struggled with every different element of the force he was trying to use at once. 

“Takodana. Covered in lush forests and lakes, rich with natural resources and positioned well for access to trade routes in both the inner and outer rim. It is considered part of the republic, but in reality has always set itself apart. They don’t like intergalactic politics. A popular hub for smugglers,” Obi-Wan managed, voice sounding strained, but not losing control of anything, the room still spinning, Qui-Gon still un-struck by the many projectiles, his padawan still balancing on his head. 

“Good Obi-Wan. What else?”

“Else? That’s - that’s all of the key information on the datapad,” Obi-Wan replied, breathing more heavily as the exercise tried him physically and mentally. 

“Yes it is. Reach out with your feelings. Why do _I_ have a datapad on Takodana, what are my plans for the planet?”

The furrow in Obi-Wan’s forehead grew, and Qui-Gon felt him reach out with both the force and their bond to try and gauge what Qui-Gon had planned, and he shielded mildly, to make it harder still for his apprentice. 

“You- you plan to bring the planet into the fold, as part of the empire. Strength your position against the republic. You’re building towards something, but I don’t know _what_ ,” Obi-Wan said, frustration growing in him, and Qui-Gon was proud when he felt his padawan release the dangerous jagged edges of that frustration into the force, and use a safe amount of it to help push him on. Perfect balance, in such a small frame. “Separatists. You want Takodana to be your first true foothold in the mid rim, by controlling such a key planet for trade routes, you will be able to bring more planets to the empire.”

“Very good, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon chuckled, letting warmth flow freely down their bond, watch as his apprentice smiled when he felt it. “Right the room and come down.” He instructed, and carefully Obi-Wan put everything back in its rightful place, so perfectly that you would never know they had been moved, if you hadn’t seen it, before gracefully rolling himself down and sitting the right way up. 

“I passed?”

“It wasn’t a test, Obi-Wan, but you more than surpassed my expectations. Your connection to the force is truly staggering.”

“Thank you Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan replied, blushing sweetly, though Qui-Gon could feel some turbulence in his thoughts. 

“What troubles you?” He asked, sitting down and crossing his legs, facing his padawan, who frowned and looked towards some ill-defined spot in the distance.

“I just am not sure how I feel about it.”

“About what?”

“The idea of an empire. I have found peace in my feelings for the jedi, I idolised them they are not what I thought they were. But I still believe in democracy, in equality and fairness. I don’t like the idea of Sidious in charge of anything.”

“You mistake our intentions. We’re an underbelly, padawan, a business organisation, not a ruling body.”

“But you call yourselves an empire. And what I felt from you, separatists, building your power,” Obi-Wan replied, the force swam around him, serene yet swirling. 

“If we take planets into our hold, then we destabilise the republic; and that is good for business. Running the galaxy is a different matter altogether.”

“So you don’t have plans to pursue that? Create a real empire?” Obi-Wan asked, his thoughts were deep and troubled, and Qui-Gon resisted the urge to pry into them. 

“I have suspected for some time that Sidious’ plans do err in that direction. But he is getting ahead of himself, we lack the infrastructure, and the support, even with his growing presence in the senate.”

“And the numbers,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“Perhaps not, Dooku is breeding an army of clones,” Qui-Gon replied, watching Obi-Wan’s reactions closely. The thought unsettled him, though not as much as Qui-Gon had expected it to. 

“How would that even work?”

“I don’t know. I am not privy to those plans yet, and if I pried for them, I would only reveal that I wanted to know, and be left on the back-foot. But the republic is a flawed system, Obi-Wan, outer rim worlds are abandoned to their own - very few - devices. I grant that the system works well for all the rich planets with a say on Coruscant, but have you ever wondered why so many planets are so happy to join with us, even knowing what we are?”

“All systems are flawed, a galaxy is too large to please everyone.”

“I agree.”

“I don’t want Sidious to be emperor of the galaxy.”

“I suspect few do,” Qui-Gon replied easily. 

“And you?” Obi-Wan pressed, and Qui-Gon ran a hand over his bearded chin, thinking on his response. 

“He is a strong leader, and certainly a strong sith lord, of that there is no denying. But he is a fanatic, and he lets his obsessive beliefs about the sith and what we should be get in the way of business. He believes he is all powerful, has no appreciation for his generals. I agree that it is a better method of control to be feared than loved - no one can be universally loved, but fear is an easy thing - but when even your own generals don’t like you; when you believe you are all powerful and don’t _really_ need them? That is folly. 

“He is clever, and cunning, and not to be underestimated. But he is blinded by self-importance, and rather than making the galaxy a lucrative, well-oiled machine, I have no doubt he would break it instead.”

“So you aren’t in favour of him then?”

“I doubt it matters, once he has control he is hardly going to hold a vote. But no, I care nothing for the republic, but a broken galaxy is not a profitable one, so Sidious would not be my choice.”

“But you won’t stop him either.”

“Is that going to be an issue?” Qui-Gon asked, raising a brow. He didn’t say it, didn’t let it show on his face or be readable down their bond, but if it was, he would kill Sidious himself and make sure Obi-Wan was never given a choice in which Qui-Gon might not win. He loved Obi-Wan’s adherence to the light, even now, but it did come with certain drawbacks. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” Obi-Wan replied honestly. “The republic is flawed, but democracy has to be the best way, doesn’t it?”

“A single ruler can create change much faster, less debate, less politics. You don’t have to listen to the whining complaints of backwards worlds that fear the future.”

“And you want me to believe that any ‘change’ under Sidious would be for the better?” Obi-Wan replied dryly, and Qui-Gon laughed.

“No, I grant it likely would not be.”

“But perhaps with someone else…” Obi-Wan said, more to himself than the room, clearly trailing off into thought, and Qui-Gon let the silence stretch, to give him space to do so. “I don’t think I would be willing to let it happen, but I want to be by your side, no matter what comes.”

“A gesture I do not take lightly, my love,” Qui-Gon replied, shifting slightly to let their knees press together. “On the subject of Sidious. He wishes to meet you,” Qui-gon said, Obi-Wan looked up with alarm etched on his lovely features, green eyes going wide.

“What! Why?”

“Because you killed Darth Maul,” Qui-Gon replied blithely, realising his mistake when he felt panic spike through their bond, and he put a soothing hand on Obi-Wan’s knee. “Relax pet, he does not wish you any harm, as far as I can tell.”

“That isn’t entirely comforting. Why does he want to meet me now, Maul was months ago.”

“I have been...fobbing him off. But he will not continue to accept it. He knows how strong you are and it is only continuing to pique his curiosity. He expects you to replace Maul in his organisation.”

“But I don’t want to replace Maul, I want to stay here with you. I’m not even a dark sider,” Obi-Wan replied, his arms crossing over his chest. 

“I am aware. Fear not pet, I have no intention of letting him take you from me, nor will I let you be turned into something you don’t wish to be,” Qui-Gon replied, opening their bond and smiling as he felt Obi-Wan sink into him in the force, searching for reassurance. “But a demonstration of your growing skill should at least satisfy him for a time. He knows you use the light at the moment, he does not need to know that I have no intention of changing that.”

“When?” Obi-Wan asked, unsettled but thankfully not panicking. 

“Some time in the next few months. He will not give us much warning, if any.”

“I don’t like him,” Obi-Wan said. He had never met Sidious, but frankly Qui-Gon didn’t blame him. 

“Neither do I,” Qui-Gon replied, and that at least did seem to settle Obi-Wan somewhat, as if reassured that whatever happened, he was not alone in this, even in regards to Qui-Gon’s superior. “There is something else troubling you?”

“It’s nothing, just a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

“A _bad_ feeling. I cannot pinpoint it, but it feels like a warning for the future, it feels bad,” Obi-Wan struggled to articulate. Qui-Gon had never been plagued by premonitions in the force, his power lay with the living force, it centred him in the present, didn’t let him get distracted by specters of the future.

“You are with the sith, something bad is usually just around the corner. You could well be sensing Sidious’ impending visit, his presence alone would be enough to create a bad feeling in most, especially one like you, brimming with light.”

“You don’t think I should worry?”

“I think if you spend too long fearing for some ill defined bad ‘thing’ in a future that has not happened yet, it is at best a distraction from the far more immediately important present, and at worst a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Qui-Gon replied, he believed far more in focusing on the present, and using it to shape the future he wanted. 

“I suspect you are right,” Obi-Wan replied, though he was still clearly troubled by the feeling he was getting.

“No matter how little stock I place in premonitions, my love, I will always listen to your concerns, and if it really troubles you, we can attempt to meditate and work out more,” Qui-Gon offered, the offer of comfort helping to brush away the thoughts plaguing Obi-Wan.

“Thank you master. So, Takodana, you’re planning this diplomatic mission soon?”

“Yes pet, tomorrow in fact.”

“I was wondering where we were going,” Obi-Wan smiled, the comforting whir of the Deimos around them as the large ship travelled through hyperspace. 

“Would you like to come with me?” Qui-Gon asked, it was the first time he had invited Obi-Wan on business; it was the first business they had had since the incident with the jedi. 

The jedi. He had half a mind to hunt them down and slaughter them just for the attempt they had made, to track down whoever had given the order. But even he could not raze the temple alone. More concerningly he still didn’t know how the jedi had found his ship so easily, when it should have been all but impossible to locate.

Obi-Wan had also told him about the leaked footage of them together, and he had been furious, ready to tear through every one of his staff until he found who was responsible; because it had to be one of them, the only way to access the videos was by breaking in to the ships data storage or stealing the cameras themselves. He wanted to burn out the eyes of anyone who had seen them, all without his pet’s consent, it made him shake with anger. 

But he couldn’t find a breach in the security, although he would admit he hadn’t been as vigilant as he should have over the cameras themselves, he hadn’t thought anyone would be so brazen. The cleaning droids had access to their room, which meant that anyone who was a skilled enough programmer could have accessed their room and found the cameras; and Qui-Gon didn’t employ unskilled individuals on his ship. 

He would find them. He had programmes running over security footage, searching for an unauthorised entrance into their rooms and combing the data system for the slightest blip that could indicate a hack. He had found nothing so far, but he was patient, he would find them. And if it transpired that this method did not work, then he would trawl through the mind of everyone on his ship until he found the culprit. 

It surprised him, how well Obi-Wan seemed to have made his peace with the footage being on the holonet - he was attempting to have it removed, but the holonet was unfathomably huge, and they both knew it was a near impossible task, even when there was the threat of a sith at your door if you were caught so much as viewing the tapes. Obi-Wan was clearly ashamed, but he was releasing it to the force, holding his head high, not allowing himself to be cowed. 

He had even been the one to suggest setting up the camera again, much to Qui-Gon’s shock, letting himself be filmed again, and this time setting traps on both the hardware and software to try and catch whoever had done it, but unsurprisingly the footage was left alone this time. Qui-Gon brushed away the thoughts, and the anger that built with them when Obi-Wan replied.

“You want me to come with you, I thought I wasn’t allowed on business?” 

“Things change, pet, I would like to have you with me, if you are comfortable with it,” Qui-Gon answered, he feared for Obi-Wan growing bored with him. He took him on trips whenever he could, taking him to colourful planetary festivals and exhilarating races whenever he could - podracing had become a guilty pleasure of Obi-Wan’s over the months - but he was all too aware of just how much time Obi-Wan ended up cooped up on his ship while he was working, and he wanted to change that.

“I want to come,” Obi-Wan smiled. “But what would I be? I don’t want to just be seen as your toy all the time.”

“You are far more than a toy to me, pet. I love you.”

“I know that, and I love you too. But to onlookers you know what it looks like.”

“I do, and I had already given it some thought. You are my apprentice, and it is time everyone knew it. I want to involve you in any business, I don’t want you to sit passively beside me.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan smiled, and Qui-Gon could feel down their bond how pleased his padawan was. “So, Takodana, what will we be doing there?”

Qui-Gon explained it to him, that they could be on the planet for some time, as they hashed out a deal with the planet’s leadership. He hated diplomacy, hated having to make allowances for lesser men, but he knew when it was necessary, understood - it had been his idea after all - how vital it was for planets to join them willingly, without coercion. It stopped the republic being able to sell the narrative they wanted to so easily. It forced other planets to ask _why_ mid rim worlds were joining them freely, to see the flaws in the republic system, and the benefits in the empire.

Obi-Wan joined him the next day on the bridge, as they approached Takodana, he was in a good mood - which had been evident from how Qui-Gon had been woken up by sweet, greedy lips around his cock - and was laughing at a joke the pilot had made, standing by her seat and pointing to something on one of her monitors.

Qui-Gon remembered when there was silence on the bridge, only clipped reports and status updates coming out of the mouths of his staff. But lately, with Obi-Wan spending more time here, the atmosphere - or at least Raxx, the pilot Obi-Wan seemed to have created a tentative friendship with - had relaxed a little. Qui-Gon surprised himself by deciding that he liked it, at least when it was aimed at Obi-Wan, less worried about him feeling isolated than he had been before. 

“Coming in to land, Lord Avarus,” Raxx then said more seriously as she took the ship down towards the planet’s main space port. His ship was so large that extra room had been created to make space for them, but his attention was distracted from the landing when Obi-Wan’s hand found his, and his padawan tucked into his side. 

“Look master,” Obi-Wan pointed out of the viewscreen, towards one of the great lakes this city was built beside. “I’ve never seen water that blue before. Are we allowed to take a dip?” He asked more cheekily, and Qui-Gon chuckled, drawing Obi-Wan closer and trailing a finger under his chin, tilting his head up and stealing a kiss. 

“My love if you want to swim in that lake then I will make it a fundamental part of the treaty,” Qui-Gon teased, stealing another few kisses from Obi-Wan’s laughing mouth before letting him go to looked back out the window again. 

Most of the staff was tactfully looking away - a show of affection making them more uncomfortable than their shows of lust - and going about their tasks. All except Xanatos of course, but Qui-Gon had grown so used to his sour looks of late, they almost amused him. This expression was different, more slack, and Qui-Gon could have laughed, that even now Xanatos had still been delusional enough to cling to the idea that what he had been to Qui-Gon was even a shadow next to what Obi-Wan was. 

Xanatos schooled his expression when Qui-Gon sneered at him, barked at him to get to work, part of the entourage onto the planet, useful if there were any officials that could be wooed by other means. He felt unsettled in the force, but he had always been distractingly unbalanced and Qui-Gon paid it no mind. Hopefully this had finally killed his delusions, and he would start to focus himself more fully on the jobs he was supposed to be doing - and did well, but Xanatos failing to reach his potential had always been another of his numerous flaws. 

Obi-Wan’s clothes, a light complement to his own in many ways, fluttered a little in the warm breeze that greeted them when they walked down the boarding ramp of the Deimos. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and soaking himself in the wave of living force that greeted him on such a luscious planet, letting the force wash over him and bolster him in a way that being in the cold vacuum of space could never quite compare to. When he opened his eyes, he found Obi-Wan smiling up at him, laughing under his breath. 

“What?”

“Nothing. I think I just finally understand your preoccupation with plants,” Obi-Wan teased, and Qui-Gon called him imp and started leading the way to the Takodanan palace in Andui. 

It was a pleasant walk, if a little long, but given that it was through such a beautiful planet, Qui-Gon felt no desire to move in speeders, and Obi-Wan seemed to be enjoying being off of the ship for a while as well. They were greeted formally when they arrived by the queen, king, and their full entourage of nobles and servants as they were welcomed into the opulent palace. 

Qui-Gon tolerated the pleasantries with a deftness and politeness that the jedi would like to insist he wasn’t capable of, charming the queen and making her laugh and trill with his charm, while trying not to seethe with jealousy as Obi-Wan made short work of pulling the king into conversation and relaxing his disposition as well. Between the two of them, both rulers were at ease and smiling by the time they sat down at the negotiating table. 

Negotiations were boring, because they were never anything but, and he could sense the surprise of the room when he allowed - encouraged, even - Obi-Wan to be an active participant.

“I have to say I am pleasantly surprised, Master Kenobi, I was under the impression you were a...paramour of Lord Avarus, but it seems you are a force to be reckoned with in your own right,” King Vaten commented after Obi-Wan made a particularly insightful point about the outer rim trade routes than ran so closely to the planet, and how little use the republic could be in regards to anything involving the outer rim, even though it was an important part of Takodana’s trade ecosystem. 

“Obi-Wan is my apprentice, among other things,” Qui-Gon said, voice deliberately unreadable as he masked his irritation. 

“I meant no offence, of course.”

“Of course.”

“It’s fine, the mistake is a common one,” Obi-Wan said, smoothing over the slight awkwardness that had risen easily. Why this king felt he had leave to make any comment on their relationship was beyond Qui-Gon, but he reminded himself that he needed Takodana, at least for now. 

“Still, I should not have made assumptions, it was my faux pas. So you are skilled with the force then?” King Vaten asked, taking far too much interest in Obi-Wan for Qui-Gon’s liking, but now was not the time for possessiveness. 

“I have some, yes,” Obi-Wan replied modestly, Qui-Gon chuckled. 

“He is easily the best I have ever seen, at such a young age. His abilities would astound you,” Qui-Gon said; or at least they would, if this near-null king had any idea what was impressive for a force user. Either way, Obi-Wan blushed and he liked that. 

“Did you jedi not snatch you up? As far as I’m aware they look for force sensitives when they are young, and you have only just appeared by Darth Avarus’ side,” Queen Hikra asked, keen interested, from a planet that had never liked having its children _scouted_ by the jedi before. 

“They did. But I, uh, I wasn’t selected by a master before I was thirteen, and I...aged out of the temple,” Obi-Wan explained, the story - the perception of failure on his part - still making him fill with shame. 

“The jedi are often blind to real talent, because they are too busy raising politicians, these days.”

“But how did you end up with Lord Avarus, if you were on Coruscant?” The queen asked, and Qui-Gon felt an opportunity arise, at the same moment his padawan seemed to as well.

“If by thirteen an initiate has either failed their trials or failed to be selected by a master to be trained, then they are sent to a farming colony on Bandomeer.”

“Bandomeer? But that’s in the outer rim, I don’t understand, I was under the impression that all children who are taken by the jedi are destined to at least _become_ jedi themselves. Were you a rare case?” She asked, clearly not trying to press on a sensitive area, but her outrage was growing and she couldn’t stop herself. Good. Obi-Wan shook her head, and Qui-Gon spoke. 

“I would estimate that approximately seventy percent of the initiates end up on Bandomeer, or some other out of the way place with various arms of the Corps,” Qui-Gon said, some stayed at the temple and became medics or archivists, but most went away to some such farming colony or another. He couldn’t believe that it was only just occurring to him why that might be; keep them out of the way, so that nobody asked questions, so that parents still gave up their force sensitive children. 

Queen Hikra’s fury was instant, shooting out of her chair and standing fast enough that it clattered backwards and an attendant had to come and pick it back up again, pushing it back towards her gingerly. 

“But they took Lady Dota’s daughter two years past! We were all consoled by the fact that she would be a jedi one day, and you’re telling that isn’t even true! They never mentioned that some don’t succeed, let alone _most_.”

“Ah but it is easy to get away with, isn’t it? When all contact from the child is cut off from you, and they are raised not to know their parents, so it would be difficult to even look.”

“This is…” the king trailed off.

“Not what you expected from the republic, let alone the jedi, I imagine,” Qui-Gon said, leaning back in his chair as Hikra sat back down slowly in hers. 

“It is unacceptable that they do not make this clear, when their most persuasive argument to separate families is that the child _will_ become a jedi.”

“They are not allowed to simply take, so they do whatever they can to make you give,” Qui-Gon shrugged. 

The conversation turned back to what the empire could offer that the republic couldn’t after that, Queen Hikra lost in furious thought, and Qui-Gon had a good feeling that this might only take a few days, opposed to the fortnight he had set aside. The king was pushing him for a better and better deal, and Qui-Gon was beginning reticently, so that he could appear generous later, and still only give no more than he had originally intended. 

Obi-Wan knew enough to contribute to the conversation occasionally, with thoughtful points about the benefits of being part of an alliance that didn’t forget the outer rim, Takodana’s nearby neighbours. Qui-Gon was please to hear him joining in, even if he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be encouraging other planets into the empire; he hoped it was something like teaching, which was the best way to learn, and that convincing another was the best way for Obi-Wan to convince himself. 

On the third day of negotiations and local customs, it very securely became a matter of when and on what terms, rather than if, Takodana would renege from the republic - the first mid rim world to officially do so - and join the empire instead. But the queen and king were no fools, they knew they were the first, knew how valuable their move was to the sith, and pressed for more each time they sat at the table. 

The discussions did stay good natured, however, and on the fourth day, when Qui-Gon asked if he and Obi-Wan could take a dip in the lake, they were met with laughter and agreement - if Qui-Gon would reduce the trade tax on the Biox Detour by 0.02%. He agreed, partly to seem lighthearted and likable, partly because Obi-Wan’s eyes had lit up, and partly because he had been willing to go up to 0.05%, if it had come down to it. 

They went down at dusk, when the lake had closed to the public, free for their own use, and Qui-Gon could have watched Obi-Wan coyly drop his cloak and reveal the tight little swimming shorts Qui-Gon had provided him with on repeat for the rest of his life, and never been bored. Qui-gon had already known that Obi-Wan was a lovely swimmer, but seeing it was always a pleasure, and in the end his padawan ended up splashing him thoroughly to get him to stop watching, and join in instead. 

The water was warm despite the late hour, heated naturally by something under the earth and giving the lakes their appeal. They stayed in the water until Obi-Wan grew pruned and bored, Qui-Gon submitting to a number of water games - most of which seemed to involve Obi-Wan trying and failing to dunk Qui-Gon’s much larger form, and then giggle when he got dunked himself instead - until his hands running over Obi_Wan’s body started to distract them both. 

“Maybe we should take this back to our room,” Obi-Wan suggested coyly, running a finger down Qui-Gon’s wet abdominals, coming to rest at the waist back of his swim shorts and playing with the wet trail of hair there, leading below the fabric. 

“Or I could make you come right here, pet,” Qui-Gon purred, getting into Obi-Wan’s space and licking up the water that was dripping down from his hair and pooling in the enticing little divot in his clavicle. 

“Tempting,” Obi-Wan grinned, the tip of his finger wiggling just underneath the wet, elasticated material and teasing Qui-Gon’s skin, making him bite at Obi_Wan’s ear in retaliation. “But I am fairly sure getting arrested for public indecency might delay the negotiations somewhat.”

“I’d say there is a decent change the king at least finds it amusing,” Qui-Gon replied, biting a trail of harsh kisses down Obi-Wan’s neck. 

“Still,” Obi-Wan replied, and reluctantly Qui-Gon agreed and made his way out of the water with Obi-Wan. 

His padawan shivered when they exited the warm water, and they both decided to quickly dry off and redress before making the fifteen minute walk back to the palace, glad to see his sweet pet blushing when he wiggled out of his swimwear while holding a towel around himself - not that there was anyone around to see - and thus wound up entirely without underwear in his pretty new clothes. 

Qui-Gon did the same thing in deference to the dropping temperature, but forewent the towel around himself, achieving the same ends much faster than Obi-Wan had, and being able to enjoy his padawan’s indignity and needless attempts to cover him. He chuckled and pulled Obi-Wan into a string of kisses when he was dressed that Obi-Wan melted into easily as Qui-Gon took a handful of wet hair. 

He was wrapped up in Obi-Wan, consumed by him, it was why he didn’t sense another presence - a number of them - until Obi-Wan pushed him away, eyes wide and lighting his saber in a flash, suddenly deflecting a barrage of blaster shots coming from the treeline as he shouted _‘Master!’_. 

Qui-Gon growled, lit his own saber and joined his padawan, relieved to see that they didn’t appear to be being flanked, but the shots coming from the trees were heavy, and too precise to be mere droids. He cursed when a troop of heavy mercenaries marched forward, whirling with the force and deflecting shot after shot as his padawan did the same, the armour the mercenaries were wearing defending them well against the redirected fire. 

They continued to advance, and Qui-Gon’s eyes narrowed as he noticed a Hutt slither out of the trees behind them - Larragg, if his memory served - armed as a sign of her own desperation, blinded to her own shortcomings by her fury with the sith as she fired a heavy blaster of her own with poorly controlled aim. 

Qui-Gon deflected another shot with a snarl, Larragg had been on Dermos when they’d made their move, and her existence here on Takodana now meant that Ventress had thought she could _lie_ to him and get away with it. He would disabuse her of that notion later, right now he had bigger problems, as the platoon of heavy mercenaries advanced towards them unleashing a barrage of blaster fire, and having the forethought to aim most of their shots at his padawan.

Clever, as Obi-Wan was the less experienced combatant. Foolish, as darkness wrapped itself around Qui-Gon and the lush green planet seemed to melt into red around him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the thing you should be worried about is probably not the thing you're worried about, or maybe it is, and its a double bluff, or a triple bluff?? or a quadruple bluff?? who knows, all i know is i love all of you
> 
> tune in (probably) friday for some battle and some horn ¬‿¬


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 3am, but i love you <3
> 
> The madly talented [Kurtssingh](https://kurtssingh.tumblr.com/) has done a beautiful piece of art for this chapter, which you can see [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/704322115884548106/755082720807354438/SithAU.jpg) or below in the chapter <3

He could hear the alarm being called within the city walls, time would tell if this had been a trap - though he doubted it, rare was it he found someone who could lie to him convincingly for four days - or they could expect reinforcements soon. 

There were at least forty of them, as well as Larragg laughing manically and firing wildly. He would retreat, but knew better than to show his back to this kind of foe, no matter how quickly he moved. So instead he took an aggressive step forward, sending a shot back with a vicious slice of his lightsaber and catching one of the mercenaries in the chink of their amour, sending him down. 

Obi-Wan moved forward with him, the pair of them falling in perfect sync with one another as Qui-Gon reached out to the dark, and Obi-Wan to the light. With a shove of the force, Obi-Wan managed to topple one of them into the lake, their amour beginning to sink them, while Qui-Gon continued to deflect shots with increasing accuracy, standing himself in front of Obi-Wan so that the couldn’t focus fire on his padawan.

The mercenaries were also advancing, the space between them being devoured and Qui-Gon snarled as the mercenaries broke into two groups, one tier staying in an arc and continuing to fire, another advancing and reaching for vibro swords - no doubt the kind designed to withstand a lightsaber. 

Obi-Wan was by his side, but the mercenaries were fast and well trained and the melee group swamped them quickly, though they didn’t manage to separate them entirely. They were easier to kill in close combat like this, his red saber carving through their armour now, but the sheer number of them combined with the hail of fire was leaving he and Obi-Wan on the backfoot, struggling to reach one block from the last parry while keeping some of the rest at bay with the force. 

They were trying to separate them, and Qui-Gon growled as he missed a block and a vibrosword grazed him as he made certain Obi-Wan stayed by his side. Obi-Wan cut down one mercenary as Qui-Gon gutted two more before a blaster shot clipped Obi-Wan in the side and he yelped, but thankfully didn’t falter; if they faltered, they were dead.

Larragg’s manic laughter was a sick accompaniment to the relentless blaster fire, Qui-Gon was cleaving through the mercenaries as quickly as he could, but he was taking hits - albeit small ones - from the slightly off center shots that he didn’t have time to block, and the vibro sword swings he only had time to half deflect before having to move on to another, more dangerous one.

The mercenaries were swarming around them, trying to grapple them both - and losing hands for their trouble - and Qui-Gon’s mind was racing trying to think of how he could get Obi-Wan out of here. There were things - reckless, destructive - things he would do if he was alone, but he couldn’t guarantee Obi-Wan’s safety if he tried them; not that there were any guarantees right now. 

Obi-Wan cried out behind him, Qui-Gon felt his pain down their bond, sharp but not life threatening, and Qui-Gon reached deeper into the dark, letting it consume him as he gathered power, ready to unleash it when finally a hail of returning fire came down from the walls of the city, forcing the blaster fire at the very least to change target. It made all the difference Qui-Gon needed, all he had to be aware of was the people around him, and instead of leaving him open to blaster fire, all the spinning with great sweeping arcs of his saber was going to do was cut down their enemy faster. 

The mercenaries were not ready for the sheer power that exploded out from him with the first swing, unable to send the dark mantle of energy he had been gathering around himself, and even the blocks from three swords simultaneously couldn’t hold him back as he cleaved through them. He felt pain that wasn’t his own scream through him as Obi-Wan cried out again, he felt his padawan go down onto one knee, knocked from his feet by three different blows. 

Qui-Gon harnessed it, letting his fury grow untempered and uncontrolled, someone had _hurt_ his Obi-Wan, and he would make them pay. He protected Obi-Wan panting form above everything else, letting a rage that seemed to shake the very earth guide his movements. He felt like a hurricane, like some destructive natural force that couldn’t be stopped by any man made means, could barely be slowed, and he tore through the mercenaries and left them maimed and gutted in the dirt.

He turned back to Obi-Wan, shaking with pain and clutching his side in two different places, he was trying to stand and his eyes went wide as he looked up at Qui-Gon - no, looked _behind_ Qui-Gon. 

“Master watch out!” Obi-Wan shouted, lighting his saber and dashing on limping legs around Qui-Gon, deflecting heavy shots from Larragg’s blaster that had been heading straight for his back, undoubtedly saving his life. The shots were powerful and ungainly, hard to aim from a saber, but Obi-Wan still managed to send them screeching back towards the slug, tearing a hole in her disgusting belly, still laughing even as she gurgled out her last breath.

What was left of mercenaries lost their drive when their employer was dead - and the promise of pay with her - but he and Obi-Wan had no interest in letting them escape. They hunted the ten that tried to flee down, leaving them where they fell for the local law to deal with, and when the last one hit the ground, Qui-Gon still felt like he was overflowing with dark energy. But it was distracted, when Obi-Wan almost immediately sagged into Qui-Gon’s side. 

“Obi-Wan?”

“Sorry master, I just. I think I’m bleeding - ” Obi-Wan said lightly, before losing consciousness in Qui-Gon’s arms. 

He felt alarm ring through him, that dark energy welling up in him again as he caught Obi-Wan, his face had lost some of its colour and in his dark haze, Qui-Gon had failed to notice. He had never excelled at force healing, it was never something he considered in his repertoire, despite his connection with the living force; Dooku hadn’t taught it to him - what use was such a skill to a sith anyway.

He tried now though, reaching out to all that power that had coalesced around him, grasping at it, making it build and thrum with his panic, but no matter how much power he had around him, he couldn’t get the deep wounds in Obi-Wan’s side to stop bleeding. Qui-Gon acknowledged, perhaps for the first time since leaving the temple, that there were limitations in the dark too.

He put pressure on Obi-Wan’s wounds and centered himself, letting go of the darkness around him with a gargantuan effort, as though he were peeling away clawing hands clinging to him, and did something he hadn’t tried since his eyes had turned gold. The light didn’t want to respond to him, behaved like a shoal of fish avoiding a shark, twisting and flowing out of his reach, nothing like the magnetic pull he had to the dark. 

But it did respond to Obi-Wan, the light stuck to him and hugged his skin, even now he could feel it almost cocooning his injured padawan. With a steady breath Qui-Gon immersed himself in their bond, and reached out with it, clearing his mind and focussing on nothing but Obi-Wan, his injuries, the way he made Qui-Gon feel, just to be near. Finally, after long minutes of forcing back feelings of frustration and mounting fear, he coaxed the light towards him. 

It felt foriegn and unwieldy to him, failing to blend with his own force signature, as if they were oil and water - and perhaps after so many years, they were - but it went to the hand covering the worst of Obi-Wan’s wounds when he directed it. Using that wisp of light that had come to him, Qui-Gon visualised Obi-Wan’s wound beginning to heal over, of sinew and tendon winding back together, blood vessels sealing up and muscle regenerating. 

It was an exhausting process, sluggish and limited, a skill he had never learned properly. He reached out to the living force, it had been a long time since he had felt it so undiluted as it was there, by the lush forests and lakes of Takodana, manipulating the light for the first time in decades, and with it he finally felt Obi-Wan stop bleeding.

Qui-Gon let out a heavy gasp, having been holding his breath with the effort, and as he released his iron grip on that small amount of light that had come to him, he felt it skitter away from him once more. But he didn’t need it any longer, with the bleeding staunched Obi-Wan was safe to move, and Qui-Gon slipped his arm under his knees and picked up him gently in his arms. 

He carried Obi-Wan back towards the walls of the city, the gate being hastily opened for him. His ire started growing again as officials started swarming around them, gushing out apologies and escorts to the royal hospital, unsolicited advice on Obi-Wan’s condition, and desperate excuses for the Hutt that had been able to get so close to them, on a planet that had promised no violence. 

Only one individual made the mistake of reaching out for Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon growled, grabbing his hand with one shadowy tendril of the force and wrapping another around his throat, the dark slipping back around him like a favoured cloak. 

“Do not touch him,” he warned, releasing the man when he was choking and falling to the floor.

The queen and king ignored their coughing noble as they swept down the steps he was beginning to ascend. They had the intelligence not to beg for his forgiveness when there were things he was more interested in hearing.

“Darth Avarus, the royal physician has already been called. We have a medical wing in the palace, of course your padawan will be treated there in our home. He will receive the best care,” the queen said as the king turned away the nervous crowd that had been following the volatile, angry sith lord through the city. 

The doctor was waiting for them when they arrived, and Qui-Gon ground his teeth as Obi-Wan was suspended in a bacta tank, one of the wounds much deeper and more serious than he had realised, the electricity of the vibrosword that cut him having done something to his organs, as if they were trying to work out of sync from one another, and needed to be reset. 

Apparently what he had managed with the force had probably saved Obi-Wan, but Qui-Gon had no idea if that was the truth, or merely an attempt to appeal to his ego. He didn’t leave Obi-Wan’s side as he slept. The doctor had assured him that Obi-Wan would make a complete recovery, and quickly given the care he had received, but Qui-Gon still sat vigil by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. 

It was less than a day, much less, and yet it felt as though time was stretching out unconquerably in front of him, with every moment Obi-Wan’s eyes remained closed. Seconds stretched out in front of him, elongating and lingering in a way that he knew was impossible, but that he perceived all the same. 

He kept his fingers wrapped around Obi-Wan’s delicate wrist, he could hear the whirring of the machines, but the feel of his pulse under his skin was more tangible, and the only thing that calmed him from destroying this entire planet. 

When Obi-Wan did wake up, after sixteen hours, it was in increments. He had been completely still, but he started fidgeting, making little noises as he came out of a deep sleep, and slipped into a shallower one. Next his eyelids started to flutter and he rubbed at his face, snuggling down in the blankets as someone chasing a few more moments of sleep did. It made Qui-Gon smiled, relief washing through him, and he laced their fingers together. 

The touch, and the sheer volume of Qui-Gon’s relief down their bond woke Obi-Wan the rest of the way, his eyes fluttered open, looked confused for a moment, but then he found Qui-Gon and he settled; he had never before had that kind of effect on another person. 

“Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan said blearily, his voice sounded scratchy and Qui-Gon quickly passed him some water, helped him sit up to drink it. The bacta had worked its magic, and Obi-wan barely flinched at the movement. 

“Oh pet, I’m so glad you’re awake,” Qui-Gon breathed, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead as soon as he finished sipping the water, stroking his floppy hair back out of his face. 

“I’m sorry master, I - ”

“Please don’t apologise for saving my life, Obi-Wan. Please don’t apologise for anything,” Qui-Gon chided gently, coaxing down the covers a little and moving Obi-Wan’s gown so that he could take a peek at the bacta patches, pleased to see nothing worse than too-pink skin. 

“I created a fuss,” Obi-Wan muttered. “I should have been faster, I will be next time,'' he said, as if he had made some kind of mistake, had a deficiency he had to make up for. One day, when the time was right, Qui-Gon would see the jedi temple burn for what they had done to him. 

“None of that,” Qui-Gon chided, and when Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak again, a stern look had him swallowing his words, and hopefully the thought as well. 

He wasn’t awake long, slipping back into what Qui-Gon hoped would be a far shorter spell of sleeping as his body continued to work hard. 

The queen and king had had the good sense to wait until Obi-Wan was out of the tank and had woken up before approaching him, but they stood in the doorway now, politely waiting until Qui-Gon made a motion that they were welcome to enter. He put his hand back on Obi-Wan’s wrist, the steady _thump thump thump_ of his pulse.

They apologised, were desperate for him to believe that they had had no idea a Hutt had been hiding out on their planet; Qui-Gon was inclined to believe them, Tankodana was large and unruly, frequented by smugglers and scallywags just as much as respectable individuals; and sparsely populated. But he revealed none of it to the monarchs, kept his face impassive, giving away nothing, his presence in the force dark, giving them that foreboding feeling that it did to non-sensitives. 

He didn’t even have to speak and they negotiated their own deal with the empire down for him; they were scared, scared of what he would do if he decided to hold them responsible. It was tempting, he needed something to do with the anger that built every time he thought about his Obi-Wan hurt, but he also knew that razing this place would create more problems than it solved, and he carefully stored away that anger for a more suitable target. 

By the time the Takodana queen and king were done talking they had negotiated themselves a worse trade deal than before, and pledged their immediate allegiance to the empire. Qui-gon knew he would care when Obi-Wan was back to his usual self, but then and there he could only turn back to his sleeping padawan and dismiss them from the room. 

With Takodana officially part of the empire, there was no need for them to stay any longer than necessary, so when Obi-Wan proved the next evening that he was entirely healed except from left over fatigue, they boarded their ship and left. 

He made Obi-Wan rest, much to his chagrin, and left his side only to make one of his rare calls to Sidious; usually preferring never to be the one to initiate contact. 

“Darth Avarus, have there been problems on Takodana?” Sidious said, voice low and reedy in a way that Qui-Gon knew wasn’t natural, given that he knew of Palpatine, knew that the sith lord could speak perfectly normally. 

“Takodana has been successfully brought into the fold. I contacted you because on the planet I was attacked by Larragg the Hutt. Ventress lied to me, and that is something that needs to be answered,” Qui-Gon replied, watching as his emperor smirked, the calculations practically written in his face about how he could play his underlings off against one another, as if the way he had been making things tense between Qui-gon and Dooku for years wasn’t enough. 

“A dangerous thing to lie about. A traitor?”

“No, merely an idiot, who didn’t want her failures to be known,” Qui-Gon replied, in truth, he was fairly sure Ventress lacked the imagination to be a traitor. But then, he had never looked on his fellow sith favorably.

“She has her uses. There was few assassins as gifted as she is. Make sure she knows that deceit in our ranks is intolerable, but I want her alive, and just as useful as she is now,” Sidious smiled and Qui-gon kept his frustration in check, it was never a good idea to give away anything about what he wanted and didn’t want to that worm. 

“Very well my lord,” Qui-gon replied. He wanted to kill her, wanted to snap her skinny little neck clean off from her shoulders, her lie had almost cost Obi-Wan his life. But ignoring Sidious was dangerous, and he could have his fun, make her pay, so long as a few days suspension in a bacta tank would leave her just as capable a pawn for Sidious that she was now. 

“I will send her to you. It is an important lesson,” Sidious replied, “and then you will come to Geonosis, it is time I met this padawan of yours.” A smile twisted his face in an ugly mask as he cut the transmission. 

Qui-Gon had known it would happen soon, and wasn’t surprised by the emperors words, but it still concerned him, the idea of his perfect light padawan being so close to that disgusting man. He knew he would need to be ready to strike him down, just as he knew that if he wasn’t cautious, Sidious would sense it on him, and it would be over for them both. But for now, he put it out of his mind.

The next day Obi-Wan insisted that he felt fine, but when Qui-Gon encouraged him to spend another day in bed, his padawan was revealingly easy to convince to do so. Convenient, as much faster than Qui-Gon had anticipated, Ventress’ ship was due to dock with the Diemos in just a few short hours, and he was keen to keep his padawan away from the other sith whenever he could. 

“Where are we going now?” Obi-Wan asked, two of his arms around a pillow his face was mostly buried in as he lazily tracked Qui-Gon around the room as he dressed.

“Nowhere today. We are docking with Ventress’ ship.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan asked, wrinkling his nose, his eyes blinking heavily, mostly from lethargy.

“Because she lied to me about Larragg, and that need to be answered,” Qui-Gon replied as he hooked his lightsaber onto his belt. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, entirely neutral as he digested what Qui-Gon likely meant by what he had said. “Good.” Obi-Wan eventually settled on, and he accepted Qui-Gon’s kiss easily when he placed it on his sleepy lips.

When Ventress docked, it was clear she had no idea why she was there, strutting her way out of her ship and making Gui-Gon’s lip curl. Sidious had made no mention of her needing to be dealt with out of sight, so when she approached and came too close - she had always had no respect for personal space - he snapped thick force suppressing manacles around her wrists before her inferior bond with the force could warn her to move. 

“Get your hands off of me!” She snarled as he grabbed her by the forearm, hand almost ridiculously oversized against the skinny sith assassin, and he hauled her all the way down to his brig, not bothering to answer her as she blustered and threatened. “The emperor will what about this! You’ve pushed your favour too far this time Avarus, our lord will agree that it’s time he knocked you down a few pegs when I get out of here!”

“The emperor has given me leave to re-educate you in some of our ways,” Qui-Gon said, rolling up his sleeves as he entered the cell he had unceremoniously thrown her into. She narrowed her eyes, disbelieving, the poor, deluded thing. 

“Lord Sidious would n- ”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out about Larragg?” Qui-Gon asked, satisfied when he saw her swallow, words stopping as she realised the position she was in. 

“She was mortally wounded, I assumed she’s succumb to her wounds. Why chase a worm down a hole if you don’t have to.”

“Liar. You were outsmarted by a slug, and then you lied about it to try and cover your incompetence. No one lies to the sith,” Qui-Gon said, and Ventress’ eyes finally held a trace of panic as he pulled back and arm and hit her square across the jaw, her lip and nose bleeding as she staggered back, unable to get her bound arms up fast enough to deflect the blow..

“I am a sith,” she hissed, Qui-Gon laughed at her, and hit her again.

“Barely,” he mocked, illustrating his point with a hard kick to her stomach, sending her crashing back against the back wall. 

With just her hands bound and her connection to the force dampened, Ventress wasn’t helpless, and dodged around the room as best she could, but the bound hands had shifted her center of gravity and her usually fluid movements were now ungainly and inelegant. It was comically easy for Qui-Gon to land blow after blow. 

By the time he left the brig, his knuckles and forearms were splattered with blood, the effect on his arms almost making his tattoos seem more vibrant than they usually were. Ventress was curled in a ball on the floor of her cell, with less teeth than she had started with. He had continued until she had choked out an apology, a promise to never make such a mistake again. 

He would leave here there to stew for a few days, before he kicked her off his ship and would have to take Obi-Wan to be evaluated by Sidious. For now, all he wanted to do was return to Obi-Wan, so that’s what he did. 

The state of his hands and arms only occurred to him when he reached up to unlock the door and the blood was put back in his eyeline, but it was too late to do anything but enter the room now, door already sliding open.

Obi-Wan didn’t greet him at the door, and Qui-Gon moved through their rooms to the bedroom, where he found his padawan naked and writhing on the bed, hand between his legs moving his favourite vibrator in and out of his hole. Qui-Gon held back from simply launching himself at his padawan, instead he leant against the doorframe and watched the perfect scene in front of him. 

Obi-Wan was beautiful, that had never been in doubt. He had been beautiful as the blushing virgin Qui-Gon had picked up, too pure to even wrap a hand around his own cock when he wanted to. And he was beautiful now, glistening with sweat, eyes squeezed shut as he worked a toy in and out of himself, wrist moving around as he tried to find his sweet spot, so used to Qui-Gon doing it for him. 

“Are you having fun, pet?” Qui-Gon asked, burning with arousal and affection as Obi-Wan’s body jerked, the vibrating toy finding what he had been looking for. Obi-Wan looked up alarmed, but his hand didn’t quite stop. 

“I was going to wait for you,” Obi-Wan said, even as he failed to completely stop what he was doing, his little cock hard and drooling against his tummy. 

“Oh yes?” Qui-Gon played along, walking over to the bed and sitting himself beside Obi-Wan’s hip, not touching him, even though he could see his pet already straining for it. “Were you just getting your cute little hole ready for me? Were you going to be all laid out on the bed, legs spread waiting for me to come back, so that all I had to do was undress, and I could slide right into your loose hole?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan squeaked, whimpering as Qui-Gon dropped a finger to Obi-Wan’s nipple and rubbed. They both paused, Obi-Wan’s eyes going wide as he took in the blood all over his hands and arms, spreading some of it on his skin where he touched. A beat passed, then two. Qui-Gon was about to offer to wash off the blood, when Obi-Wan whined so lowly it was almost a groan, and pushed up into his hand. 

Qui-Gon gave him a feral grin, and tugged on his nipples, turning the sweet pink buds redder with every touch.

“Take out your toy then, pet, let me see how well you did stretching yourself for me,” Qui-Gon said, running his hand down Obi-Wan’s tummy and giving his leaking cock a few loose strokes, that were more maddening than stimulating, enjoying watching Obi-Wan buck into the touch wildly, making him fumble with the vibrator on purpose. 

He moved when Obi-Wan did as he was asked, settling between his legs and spreading them wide. It was clear his pet hadn’t been touching himself for very long, not only had he not come yet, but with a press at his rim, Qui-Gon was sure he would only be able to sink three finger’s into him. 

“Hmmm, you’re not ready for me yet, are you pet?”

“You came back fa- _ah!-_ ster than I expected,” Obi-Wan moaned as Qui-Gon rubbed a thumb over the wet head of his cock. 

“Well, as I’m here, would you like me to help you with this greedy little hole?” Qui-gon asked, leaning over Obi-Wan and capturing his lips in a deep kiss.

“Please,” Obi-Wan sighed, before making a needy noise as Qui-Gon left the bed, and went to their wardrobe. Obi-wan’s eyes lit up when he saw Qui-Gon return with a pair of nipple clamps, connected by a simple silver chain. 

“Your nipples look so sweet this evening,” Qui-Gon praised, teasing them with his fingers again, tugging at the hard buds. “I bet they’d look even sweeter in these, and you like it don’t you, when I play with your nipples, pet?”

“Yes master,” Obi-wan responded, pressing into Qui-Gon’s touch and trying to hold still with an adorable little shudder as Qui-Gon set a firm hand against his chest.

Obi-Wan moaned as soon as the first clamp closed over his nipple, his entire body jerking when Qui-Gon tugged on it, eyes screwing shut, and when Qui-Gon clipped on the second one and tugged at the chain, his beautiful body arched up from the bed, fresh sweat starting to glow on his skin.

“You’re so responsive, aren’t you pet,” he teased, tugging gently at the chain, barely audible over the rising sounds ofObi-Wan’s moans, his cock drooling constantly against his stomach, and the sight alone was enough to have Qui-Gon’s cock, hard from walking in on his pet pleasuring himself on the bed - start throb more insistently in its confines; but he wanted to make this about his pet, first. 

Obi-Wan let out a confused noise as Qui-Gon let go of the chain for now, coming to stretch his much larger body out next to Obi-Wan’s on the bed, stroking one hand up and down his torso teasingly, fingers dancing over his straining cock, before taking it in a loose grip again. 

“Come here pet,” he instructed after a few minutes of teasing delightful sounds out of his padawan. He settled on his back and used his hands and the chain on the clamps to move Obi-Wan until he was straddling his chest, looking down at Qui-Gon with an unsure expression. “Up.” Qui-Gon unstructured, tapping his hips and then coaxing him to shuffle up the bed with a firm pressure on his hips. 

Obi-Wan was whining, making sweet little noises as he understood what was happening, and moved a bit more easily, until his sweet little ass was hovering over Qui-Gon’s face.

“Spread yourself for me pet, I’m going to make you come just from my tongue,” Qui-Gon purred, leaning up and licking over Obi-Wan’s loosened hole at the same time as he reached up and tugged on the chain. 

Obi-Wan moaned loudly and Qui-Gon chuckled, moving his hands to hold Obi-Wan’s hips, kiss the skin of his thigh. 

“I don’t even think it is going to be difficult,” he teased, before holding Obi-Wan’s hips in a tight grip, and encouraging him to sit on his face. 

Obi-Wan always smelled so clean and heady like this, so fastidious with himself, except for the synthetic sweetness around his hole, from the flavoured lube he had been using, making Qui-Gon chuckle against him, and lap at the taste more thoroughly. He left Obi-Wan’s nipples alone for now, using his hands to steady Obi-Wan as he worked his tongue inside that tight ring of muscle, pleased by how easily it went, by the sounds of Obi-Wan moaning loudly above him. 

He fucked into him with his tongue, his nose pressing firmly against Obi-Wan’s premium and he let everything he was feeling flood down their bond, making Obi-Wan harder as he started to rock his hips against Qui-Gon’s tongue. He loved the way Obi-Wan grew desperate in this position, how he focused on his own pleasure, pushing himself down onto Qui-Gon’s tongue and chasing it with the rhythm of his hips. 

Obi-Wan opened up easily around him, writhed on top of Qui-Gon as he sucked at his hole and pushed his tongue as deep as it would go. His padawan started to pant, already so worked up from his play with the vibrator, and he always loved it when Qui-Gon did this for him, came so easily when his little hole was getting the attention it deserved. 

Still ignoring his own aching cock, straining against his pants, Qui-gon snaked a hand back up Obi-Wan’s chest until he found the chain and tugged. Obi-Wan wailed loudly, letting go of himself with one hand as he grabbed hold of the headboard for balance, grinding against Qui-Gon’s face. 

Qui-Gon pulled on the chain again, harder this time and for longer, Obi-Wan’s moans getting louder and more high pitched as it went on. His hips were growing erratic against Qui-Gon’s face, and he let his hand sink into the softness of his hip hard enough to lay new bruises, that the bacta tank had completely removed. 

With a particularly sharp tug on the chain and a deep press of his tongue, he felt his pet come, his climax crashing down their bond, making Qui-Gon’s cock jerk as his pet cried out his name and shot hot come against his belly. Obi-Wan reached a hand down to stroke himself through his orgasm, wringing out every last bit of pleasure before he used the last of his energy to lift himself from Qui-Gon’s face, and collapse beside him. 

“So beautiful, pet,” Qui-Gon cooed, running his hand through the mess on Obi-Wan’s stomach, rubbing it into his skin until he knew they would both have to get in the ‘fresher before trying to sleep. 

Obi-Wan panted for five minutes, body shaking with happy little tremors as he recovered and a tired, clumsy hand started working at Qui-Gon’s fly. He helped him free his big cock, pulling it out from his pants and groaning as Obi-Wan didn’t even wait for him to be completely undone before wrapping his lips around the head and sinking himself down all the way to the base.

“Fuck, pet,” Qui-Gon growled, surprised when Obi-Wan started sucking him in earnest, instead of warming him for a little while first, as his pet usually preferred to do so soon after coming. 

Obi-Wan made a needy little noise, humming as he bobbed his head in practised movements, spit slicking up his cock as Obi-Wan’s lips started to go rosy red and swollen from the stretch. He tanged his hand in Obi-Wan’s hair and shut his eyes, sinking into the feeling of his pet sucking his cock, the way his tongue traced the thick vein running up the underside of his shaft, the way his throat squeezed him, the way he always sucked harder at the head, just like he liked.

“I want your come,” Obi-Wan pulled off a whined after a little while, Qui-Gon’s breath growing deeping and more strained with every second he spent sucking on his cock. Obi-Wan ducked down and sucked on his balls, letting them drop from his mouth with an obscene pop before licking his way back up his length and sinking back down. 

“Greedy thing,” Qui-Gon growled, his hand tightening in Obi-Wan’s hair and guiding him down on his cock, moving him faster and starting to fuck his face a little. Obi-Wan whined happily and wiggled until he could massage Qui-Gon’s heavy balls in his hand. With a groan, Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan’s head down at his base, the tight grip in Obi-Wan’s growin hair making his padawan whimper and swallow around him, pulling the cresting orgasm out of Qui-Gon expertly. 

He came down Obi-Wan’s throat in thick spurts, feeling arousal pulse through him again as Obi-Wan pulled off until just his mouth was wrapped around the head, so that he could use his hand to milk the rest of his come directly onto his tongue, savouring the taste before swallowing it down. He only let Qui-Gon slip from his mouth when he was already growing soft, looking up with glazed, content eyes and a happy smile. 

“Come here pet,” Qui-Gon instructed, drawing Obi-Wan into his arms and peppering him with kisses before practically carrying him to the shower. 

Obi-Wan was pliant and sweet in the shower, letting himself be washed and giggling when he flicked shampoo bubbles in Qui-Gon’s direction, making him laugh and shake his head, stealing wet kisses under the spray. 

Qui-Gon had to admit the next morning, after a long rest and a night spent peacefully in Qui-Gon’s arms, Obi-Wan did seem to be entirely healed, and he insisted on going down to the salles for saber practice, even though Qui-Gon would have much rather stayed in their room all day, remapping every contour of Obi-Wan’s body.

He realised when he was growing concerned with the fervour Obi-Wan was throwing into his training - with how especially harsh he was with himself - what his padawan was thinking. 

“Obi-Wan,” he said firmly, as Obi-Wan berated himself under his breath for missing a particularly difficult block. “What happened on Takodana was not your fault. You did not fail.”

“If my saber skills had been better I wouldn’t have gotten injured,” Obi-Wan replied, he was rolling his shoulder awkwardly, from all the lunges and brutal parry’s he had been making.

“Perhaps, but then the fault would be with me, you are my padawan, pet, I should have protected you better.”

“It's not the same. You never would have missed the two attacks that got me,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I am not where I should be. I can be better for you. I want to be.”

“Your skills would be remarkable, even if you hadn’t gone six years with no training,” Qui-Gon replied, enjoying Obi-Wan’s blush and turning off his saber when he saw Obi-Wan roll his shoulder awkwardly again. He lent down and placed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “That’s enough for today, I think.”

“But - ”

“What does practising a move while tired do?”

“It makes you learn it wrong,” Obi-Wan replied reluctantly, 

“Exactly. You only just recovered from sustaining not insignificant injuries, indulge me and come to the garden room, we can meditate or work on your force techniques,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan sighed but followed him easily, finding his hand with his own and tangling their fingers together.

“I really would like more saber practice though, master. I know that I need it,” Obi-Wan said, later, with his head pillowed on Qui-Gon’s chest in their big bed, tracing patterns over his skin. “I shouldn’t have gotten so hurt on Takodana.”

“They had overwhelming numbers, it had nothing to do with your skills, Obi-Wan, and I would remind you that we won that fight.”

“Still, I’m so unused to any fighting style but yours, it's not a great way to practice. I need more sparring partners if I ever want to be any good,” Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon frowned, Obi-Wan was still too fast to doubt himself, and his skill. 

“You are already very good. But I can look into trying to find others for you to spar with, if you want. I suppose for now you could spar with Xanatos, if you wanted. You are already far superior to him in terms of skill, his technique is unrefined and wild, but it is at least different to my own,” Qui-Gon suggested, there weren’t enough sith - not that he trusted them enough for it anyway - for anyone other than himself to spar with Obi-Wan, he would likely have to look into advanced droids he could program with different styles.

“Would he even agree, you know he doesn’t like me,” Obi-Wan replied, turning himself more onto his side, so that he could look at Qui-Gon while they spoke, and Qui-Gon chuckled. 

“You are everything he never was, of course he doesn’t like you. But Xanatos is predictable in his desire to gain my favour, and he will do whatever I tell him to,” Qui-Gon replied, he didn’t exactly trust Xanatos, but he did trust his desperate, simpering loyalty.

“Alright then, yes, I think it would do me some good to learn to adapt to other fighting styles better, Obi-Wan nodded, and Qui-Gon still couldn’t stand the way he underestimated himself, but could at least respect his frightening drive to be better. 

“Very well, but he will not challenge you,” Qui-Gon said, enjoying Obi-Wan’s bashful smile and ducking closer to kiss his cheek before checking his almost vanished wounds, pleased to see the wounds all healing over nicely, leaving behind only slightly pinked smooth skin. “I declare you healed.”

“The med-droids did before I even got back to the ship,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes and shoving at Qui-gon’s shoulder playfully, Qui-Gon caught his hand and pulled him, making him unbalance and topple back down onto his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things occur in the next chapter, be warned...


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You comments have kept me going in a very shitty spate of days that just wants to drag on, so thank u all <3
> 
> Warnings: injury, subdrop

Darth Sidious had an imposing presence, there was something about him so slimy and oppressive that every instinct Obi-Wan had told him to run, to get as far away as he could. But instead he calmed himself, and stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back, as the sith lord watched him.

His skin crawled, and he felt the weight of the shadow in the air as if it were a physical thing. Obi-Wan was used to the presence of darkness, he felt at home in it, almost cocooned by it, whenever he was with Qui-Gon, their opposite force signatures managing to complement each other perfectly. 

But this was different, felt different and it took every ounce of Obi-Wan’s control to appear calm, especially as he and his master had agreed to close off the bond between them for the duration of Sidious’ visit, to make it all the harder for the emperor to detect. The emperor spoke little, no doubt knowing that the glint of yellow from under his dark hood was unnerving enough, that speaking too much would only break the illusion. 

Obi-Wan felt like a doll on display as Sidious circled him, forcing himself to stop from tensing when he had the emperor at his back, so exposed and vulnerable, if the sith lord decided to strike, he would be unable to turn and stop him in time. His master stood stoically to the side, projecting an air of indifference, as if were Obi-Wan found not up to scratch and Sidious instructed him to dispose of Obi-Wan, it would cost him nothing to do so. 

But Obi-Wan knew better than that by now, his master had already apologised for the lies he would tell in this room, and Obi-Wan was ready to close his ears to them. This was a precarious situation, if his master let slip how much he cared for Obi-Wan, the emperor was sure to use him against his master, as an extra tool of control, should the need ever arise.

He had already demonstrated his saber skills and his command of the force, his emperor having sicked various advanced battle droids on him and told him to perform. They lay in pieces, scattered on the floor around him. The fight had been hard, tested the limits of Obi-Wan’s abilities and once again had him wishing he had more than one person to practice his saber skills on, as the droids wielding electrostaffs had nearly taken his head off more than one. But thankfully all he had been left with was a superficial burn on his left bicep. 

“Why do you insist on clinging to the light, when the dark is so much more powerful?” Sidious asked in his almost reptilian voice, he had come to a stop behind Obi-Wan, and he knew in some ways this was more of a test than the droids had been. 

“I have no fear of the dark, I use it when I need it,” Obi-Wan replied calmly. He was glad he was no longer clad in jedi robes, though he had been told Sidious had found amusement in it, in the slight it paid the jedi just to have him there, dressed like that. 

“And what does it take, to push you far enough to use it?” Sidoous asked, a mocking tone in his voice, though precisely what Obi-Wan was being mocked for, he couldn’t be sure. 

“An enemy that refuses to be defeated with just the use of the light,” Obi-Wan replied, knowing it was true, he would reach out to the dark now whenever it came down to a choice between the dark or his life, the dark or his master’s life. He would always choose to use it to save them; but that did not mean it had to overwhelm him. 

“Kenobi’s enduring connection to the light is an asset,” Qui-Gon said, drawing Sidious’ gaze to him. “Even those born without any sensitivity to the force can feel a sense of foreboding when one of us is among them, Kenobi can slip past unnoticed; trusted even, for the light he radiates. I imagine he could stroll through the streets of Coruscant entirely unmolested by even the jedi.”

“They know his face,” Sidious sneered, trying to get a rise out of Obi-Wan, to make him react, but he didn’t. “From what I hear at the senate, there is barely an adult alive on that metal planet that doesn’t know his face. So perhaps his uses for that kind of operation are limited.”

“Hair can be changed, beards can be grown,” Qui-Gon shrugged. “Altering one’s physical appearance is hardly a challenge, in this day and age.”

“You will replace Maul,” Sidious said, coming back into Obi-Wan’s eyeline; he gave him as placid a smile as he could manage. “But you will also prove your allegiance to the dark, irrefutably, before your apprenticeship is over.”

“Yes, my lord,” Obi-Wan agreed, he had no intention of being parted from Qui-Gon, and knew that his master felt the same; he was relieved when Sidious didn’t detect the lie. 

He wondered what a man like Sidious would consider proof; the slaughter of innocents seemed likely, and Obi-Wan knew he would never do that either.

“We have other matters to discuss, come,” Sidious said, leading the way to the meeting room, Qui-Gon striding after him and Obi-Wan staying a respectful distance behind them both as he followed. Whenever they passed someone in the hallways, they plastered themselves against the wall and looked at the floor until the emperor was turning another corner and out of sight - Obi-Wan didn’t blame them.

“Is this about Kamino?” Qui-Gon asked as he took a seat, Sidious taking his usual one, at the head of the table. Obi-Wan sat next to his master, and tried to be as unnoticed as possible, though Sidious’ keen yellow eyes frequently studied him from the shadows. 

“No. Although I have informed Dooku that you are taking over that project. The incident with the real Syfio Dias was careless of him, and he came too close to getting away,” the emperor said, and Qui-Gon rapped his knuckles against the table and tilted his head in easy acquiescence.

His master had paced just three days ago talking about this, about what was going on on Kamino, the latest fuck up, how he knew the emperor was going to use it as a way to drive a wedge between him and Dooku; how his former master played into Sidious’ games every time. Qui-Gon thought that his master was clever enough to know what Sidious was doing, but that the wounds to his pride as Qui-Gon was pushed above him more and more each month was too much for him to look past. 

Obi-Wan wondered how Sidious would feel to know he was so predictable, that his first general could see through him so easily. 

“What is happening on Kamino is too important to tolerate mistakes,” Qui-Gon agreed. “The clones will remain a secret, my lord, you have my word.”

“Good. But that was not why I brought you here. There is business on Tatooine.”

“With the Hutts gone I can’t imagine there is much of any business left on that wasteland,” Qui-Gon replied, Obi-Wan searched in his memory for a planet by that name and dredged up a sand world with twin suns on the outer rim. 

“Without the Hutts the slaves have grown bolder.” 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think that no one could be very bold with an explosive chip under their skin, but then he realised that on such a poor planet, blowing up slaves - expensive in their own right - could only be a last resort, they were a valuable asset to have, and a lot of the work on a planet like that was thankless, hard and dangerous. 

“It is time for you to go to the planet and restore order, as per your new duties. Make examples, show the slaves how replaceable they are, scare them into line as you did on Iloset, remind them of exactly what is embedded under their skin, and that not everyone is too scared to press the detonator,” Sidious said, a sick smile spreading out over his lips, only just visible from the darkness his hood was casting over him. 

“I can do that, if that is what you wish, my lord, but I would urge you to consider another course. Tatooine is unruly at the moment, without the Hutts there isn’t any kind of pseudo-government, and the slave population outnumbers the citizens two to one. It is a bubbling pot, and any order I manage to instill will not last long, there is simply too much slavery on the planet, too many people with nothing to lose. 

“And what do the citizens of Tatooine really have to offer us anyway? Nothing. They give us no trouble when we land there and can be trusted not to inform the republic of any of our locations, but they produce nothing for us, we get no recruits from there. The only thing we profit from is the gambling and podraces. But if we freed the slaves, instead of reinforcing their chains, and did so openly, made sure it was heard about off world, then not only to we gain a planet of newly founded citizens forever in our debt and giving us true loyalty, but we also have a way to draw more mid-rim worlds to us. 

“Takodana was a success, but it was only the first, and we need more planets still. The mid rim abhors slavery, in general, if they see that it is not the republic that is putting a stop to slavery in the galaxy, but the empire, then it gives us extra leverage to pull more planets into the fold.” His master finished, his plan was well reasoned, and the empire’s connection to slavery had been one of the biggest sticking points for the Takodana queen and king, when they were in discussions. But the emperor pursed his lips. 

“Your sentiments towards slavery are well known,” he replied, a pitying tone in his voice, as if this was Qui-Gon’s greatest weakness. “There is profit in slaves, a large profit, and I will not have that compromised.”

“The profit can be maintained - improved on, even - by the trade taxes we can impose on the mid rim worlds that join us, only we will also have the benefit of more allies to call on, in both the mid and outer rim.”

“Do not think to know better than me. The rodents on Tatooine will be brought to heel, and you will be the one to do it,” his voice was suddenly sharp, losing all of the slime and grease it had had before, as if he were a politician, and replaced instead by the whip-like tone of a dictator. 

“Of course master, I apologise, I overstepped. The slaves will be dealt with,” Qui-Gon said, his voice and presence felt entirely calm, contrite for the emperor, but to Obi-Wan the tone and words coming from his master’s mouth felt alien, or like an ill fitting suit. 

He wondered if it was just how dangerous Sidious was, and that his master was not nearly as confident as he pretended when reassuring Obi-Wan of his safety, of whether he could beat Sidious in battle, or it if was simple that he truly had no desire to run the sith organisation himself, that made him hold his tongue. 

Sidious did not stay on their ship for much longer, after that, though his parting words made an unpleasant shiver run up Obi-Wan’s spine ‘ _ I will be watching your progress with great interest _ ’. But at least they had been parting words, and the emperor flew away. 

“I don’t like him,” Obi-Wan said almost as soon as his ship was gone, no one else around them to comment. 

“No one who knows what he really is does,” his master replied, running a soothing hand down Obi-Wan’s spine, making him feel more grounded as they both let their bond open back up, sinking into the feeling and sharing a moment of quiet as the comforting connection returned to them both. 

“I missed you,” Obi-Wan said, leaning into Qui-Gon’s side and smiling to himself as his master dropped a kiss to the top of his head. 

Qui-Gon ordered for the ship to be turned towards Tatooine, and he was restless and annoyed that evening as they approached the planet, pacing the length of their room as he expounded on the benefits of his plan, the short sightedness of Sidious’.

“Have you considered that he simple likes the practice of slavery?” Obi-Wan suggested, sitting crossed legged on the soft bed as Qui-Gon stalked around the room, his tattoos shifting as the muscles in his arms flexed with his tense frustration. 

“I know he does. And he puts too much stock in the allegiance of the slavers, and the backwater planets that enjoy the benefits of slaves. He thinks we would lose those planets if we stopped the trade, but it's not as though plants like that could go running to the republic, they are with us because they have no choice, and that would not change just because we put an end to a tasteless practice. He thinks his political maneuvering on Coruscant will be enough, that he will be able to ignite a war; but there is no war if there is no united side against the republic, and unless we do something to bring the outer and mid rims to our side, then there will be such movement.” 

“I thought you didn’t want a war.”

“I don’t, but I want a war we are sure to lose even less. His plan is too convoluted, if we bring enough planets to our side lawfully, then the republic will be hard pressed to move against us without looking unreasonable and against democracy themselves. I would prefer that we build up our empire that way, there is no need for chips in clones and tricking the republic into a war. We could simply use the clones to consolidate our force, a sudden might that the republic couldn’t hope to face down. Why have a war, when we could simply usurp.”

“Perhaps he has a plan we do not know about, but I think his arrogance blinds him,” Obi-Wan replied, eyes tracking the tall form of his master, his rigid shoulders, and he sensed that some of his tightness might be coming from the plans the emperor had for Obi-Wan, as much as anything else, and tried to reach out down their bond to soothe him a little.

“A flaw that plagues most sith,” Qui-Gon agreed with a scowl, but he came easily, when Obi-Wan reached out a hand.

“I’ve yet to find any of your flaws, master,” Obi-Wan said coyly, looking up at Qui-Gon through his lashes, knowing at least one way he could distract him from his various frustrations. 

A hand came down to his cheek, cupped the side of his face and his master smiled as Obi-Wan nuzzled into the hand happily. Coaxing his master into bed was easy, a fact that always reassured Obi-Wan, took away any lingering self-consciousness he had about how often he craved his master’s touch, knowing that he was not the only one who wanted this so badly. 

His master took him with hard hands around his hips, fucking into the tight sheath of Obi-Wan’s body and driving him out of his mind with want just as surely as he was driven up the bed on every thrust of his master’s hips. His master felt settled and content through their bond when they settled down to sleep, Obi-Wan feeling safe and cocooned in his arms, lulled to sleep by the steady beat of his heart. He was even more at peace than he used to be here now, knowing that there truly was no other place he would rather be. 

His master’s irritation returned the next moring however, when the ship entered orbit over Tatooine. There was no spaceport for the insignificant, poor world, but Qui-Gon was reluctant to land the ship, too big for any of the hangars, meaning he would have to land in the open sand, and unwilling to announce himself so obviously anyway, for what he had planned for the planet. 

Obi-Wan didn’t ask what he was going to do, because he knew it would not be an answer that he liked, and he could only hope that one day Qui-Gon managed to bring Sidious around to his way of thinking instead. Or better yet, that one day there would be no Sidious at all. His master might not want to run the empire, but he would be good at it, of that Obi-Wan was certain. 

“I will not be longer than a day,” his master said, checking that his desert gear - black despite the heat, something about the sith that would almost be funny, if it weren’t for the impracticality of it - at the entrance to his landing shuttle. “It would be a good chance for you to spar with Xanatos, if you still think it is worth your while.”

“It is worth my while, I need to improve,” Obi-Wan replied, almost rolling his eyes as he got up on his tiptoes to kiss his master goodbye. 

“Yes well, he will not be a challenge,” Qui-Gon said again, Obi-Wan glad he had finally stopped fighting against his desire to improve. He knew that he was excelling fast after so many years without any formal training, but he still was not where he wanted to be. “I will see you later, Obi-Wan,” his master said, giving him another, deeper kiss before finally leaving him and his ship pulled away. 

Obi-Wan felt awkward looking for Xanatos; actively seeking out someone that he knew disdained his presence was not something Obi-Wan enjoyed doing. Everyone else on the ship had warmed up to him considerably in the last few months, with Obi-Wan even ready to tentatively call one or two of them friends, perhaps, but not Xanatos. Qui-Gon’s failed apprentice had remained cold towards him, sneering at his presence and shooting him cruel words whenever Qui-Gon’s back was turned. 

He knew that if he told his master about Xanatos’ behaviour, he would be tossed from the ship. Gone were the days when Obi-Wan was uncertain about his place at his master’s side. But he kept them to himself all the same, Xanatos was useful to his master’s operation, entrusted with a great many tasks and aided by the fact he was force sensitive, making Qui-Gon’s life easier in a great many ways. He was an adult, and one that had been through a lot, he could endure a few petty words from a jealous creature. 

Eventually someone was able to tell him that Xanatos was in the training salle already, and Obi-Wan wondered if his master had told Xanatos to be there and stay, in case Obi-Wan decided that he did wish to spar. When he found him there, Qui-Gon’s former padawan already had his saber lit, was practicing advanced forms and techniques. 

As Obi-Wan entered the sall, the force felt unsettled, something savage and barely controlled rolling off of Xanatos and leaching into the air around him, the kind of feeling that made the hair of your arm stand on end. His master had told him that there was something wild about Xanatos when he fought, but swinging his red saber around and making sparks fly from the floor, he seemed more unhinged than simply wild. 

Xanatos had always been a neat person, at least in terms of his appearance, everything about him perfectly placed and refined. His long, smooth black hair had never had a hair out of place, but seeing him now, for the first time since they’d arrived at Takodana, he could see the way it had become dank and out of place; not quite messy, but noticeable when compared with how carefully he usually groomed his hair. 

There was something about his clothes as well, his usually so beautiful and flattering clothes looked loose on him, like they were hanging off the bones of his angular body, opposed to hugging and accentuating them, as they usually seemed to do. The make up that he always worse around his eyes was smudged and looked old, and he had lost some of his jewelry.

Obi-Wan wished he hadn’t entered the salle, the force felt like it was trying to warn him, but he had already entered the salle and been seen, and he had made such a point to his master about insisting he have someone else to spar with as well, he felt as though he couldn’t leave. 

“Oh good, it's here,” Xanatos said, voice too loud in the room that was quiet except for the hum of his lightsaber. He didn’t object to the way Xanatos addressed him, there was no point, better to let him see how little it bothered him, and he didn’t thank him for taking the time either. 

He had barely removed his cloak before Xanatos was on him, slashing at him wildly but with a speed that was hard to keep up with, and a randomness that was almost impossible to predict. The force struggled to warn him where to block and parry, as Xanatos himself didn’t seem to know what he would do next. But in some ways Obi-Wan was glad for the sudden assault, removing the need for any more words to be said between them; and a real opponent would hardly wait until he was ready. 

Xanatos was a barrage, his strikes left his guard open but he was so fast that Obi-Wan struggled to take advantage of them anyway, only occasionally managing to make an attack as he was constantly forced to block and parry the blows. Fighting Xanatos was exhausting, an overload to all of his senses, and he wondered how long the other man could keep this up, but he looked buoyed with energy for now.. 

Xanato’s saber burned a mark into the salle floor, and Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide, realising just a moment too late that Xanatos’ saber was not at set at an intensity for sparring as he bashed through Obi-Wan’s guard and slashed across his chest. 

Obi-Wan shouted in pain, a scorching line cut across his chest, from clavicle to sternum, and he stumbled back as Xanatos laughed at him. The wound burned, screamed at him to find something cool and put it on the fresh burn. Had Xanatos’ saber had been at full power, Obi-Wan would probably be dead, but wherever Qui-Gon’s failed apprentice had set it was far above what anyone considered acceptable for sparring. 

“Turn your saber down,” Obi-Wan barked, and regretted it immediately as Xanatos bared his teeth. 

“What? Can you not beat me in a fight?  _ Me _ , the one Avarus threw away? At some point he is going to see how deficient you are, how talentless; perhaps this will be how,” Xanatos taunted him, pressing directly against every one of Obi-Wan’s fears. 

How many times had his master said to him that Xanatos would not be a challenge for him, that he would beat the other man easily in a fight, so much so that sparring with him would have limited use. Yet here he was, struggling against the assault.

“No one spars with their saber up that high,” Obi-Wan growled, trying to channel the pain lancing through his chest. 

“You are welcome to leave, to sniffle back to Avarus and tell him that after less than a minute you knew you couldn’t beat me,” Xanatos mocked him again, and Obi-Wan tensed, feeling his master’s words echo around his ears again; this fight wasn’t supposed to even be a challenge. 

Was his master so wrong about Obi-Wan’s abilities, seeing what he wanted to see because of their bond, rather than what was there, managing to overlook Obi-Wan’s shortcomings because something else had formed between them. Obi-Wan had always wondered, his master showered him with praise, but if he were truly remarkable, as Qui-Gon insisted, then why would the jedi have discarded him as they did. 

He swallowed around a new tightness in his throat and readied his saber again. He could beat Xanatos, he would, his master believed in him and he needed to believe in himself. Xanatos had had control of the bout, that was all, and Obi-Wan wouldn’t let it happen again. 

Xanatos gave him that unhinged grin again when Obi-Wan brought his saber back up, throwing himself towards Obi-Wan again. Xanatos continued to move fast, and Obi-Wan reached out with the light to counter his darkness as much as he could, relieved when he fell into a rhythm, prepared this time for the manic way Xanatos fought. 

Xanatos didn’t get through his defences again, and bi-Wan channeled the way his chest hurt into his own moves, he saw that while his use of the saber was good, Xanatos’ command of the force was less sure, and Obi-Wan was able to knock Xanatos down once by sending a chair flying into him from across the room when he was threatening to break Obi-Wan’s guard again. 

Obi-Wan had felt triumphant, but it had thrown Xanatos into a rage, charging back at Obi-Wan with eyes that were too wide and darting around. He felt feral in the force, completely without control, but he was as dangerous as a volcano, spewing out lava and destroying anything in his path. 

Obi-Wan used the entire space, forced Xanatos to chase him to hurl the heavy blows he was favouring at Obi-Wan in a relentless torrent. He had hoped that it would tired the other man out and his attacks would slow, give Obi-Wan a chance to go on the offensive more, to even the playfield. Obi-Wan wasn't afraid of a long bout, but when he was starting to feel an ache in his legs and building fatigue in his arms, Xanatos still felt like a furnace in the force, with an unlimited supply of fuel. 

He reliased too late that he was going to exhaust himself before Xanatos did whatever emotion Xanatos was feeding off to give him that frenzied expression was enabling him to keep going at that intensity.

Obi-Wan forced himself on the offensive with shaking arms, he had left it too late and now he had only added his own exhaustion to the ways Xanatos could exploit his guard - and the eagled eyed man noticed every single chink in his armour. His only hope was to take him down and make the other man yield first, and Obi-Wan lunged forward hoping to catch him surprised at the new move, but his movements were just a beat too slow and too telegraphed from his fatigue and the thoughts swirling in his mind and Xanatos was able to step out the way, shoving him with the force to overbalance him, leaving him propelling forward too far. Xanatos laid a nasty burn to his arm as he careened past him, the pain slowed Obi-Wan further, and in the split second he had his back turned to Xanatos he felt Xanatos’ lightsaber sash against him. 

He had expected it up the length of his back, and when he felt the saber burn him right across the seat of his ass, destroying his clothes in the process, Obi-Wan stumbled to his knees in shock, catching himself on his hands and only narrowly missing hitting the wooden floor with his face too. 

He panicked, thinking about how easily Xanatos could kill him from here, but he heard the other man laugh and step away, swinging his saber. Obi-Wan turned on his front holding back tears at the blistering pain now searing his chest, arm and ass. 

“Do you yield already?” Xnaatos sneered, swiping his saber against the floor threateningly, marking the wood with black burns every time he did. 

Obi-Wan had no choice, he was in too much pain to continue and Xanatos was only growing more rabid with every clash of their sabers, he knew if he got up again his life would be at risk. He didn’t say that he yielded, just got up to his feet. He failed to cover his wince as he did so, and Xanatos’s screeched laughter sounded like it ought to break glass. 

“Go on,” Xanatos spat. “Run back to your precious master, see what he thinks of you when he knows that even  _ I _ can best you in a fight.” He shouted at Obi-Wan’s back as he left, limping from the salle. 

His clothes were ruined, and only the cloak he had hastily readorned enabled him to hide it as he walked back to his and Qui-Gon’s room. Qui-Gon. Who had been so convinced Obi-Wan would be able to beat Xanatos, and easily. What would his master say if he knew that not only had Obi-Wan been challenged, he had been beaten

Obi-Wan felt panic welling in him, his master had abandoned Xanatos as a padawan because he was found lacking, but even he could best Obi-Wan in a fight. He knew his master wouldn’t throw him away, knew what they had was different, but he worried that his master might decide that training him was a waste of time. And even if he didn’t, Obi-Wan felt humiliated, shame filling him from head to toe as he had failed to live up to his master’s expectations. 

He decided before he reached their room, trying to stop his body from shaking with pain every time someone walked past him in the hallway, that he couldn’t tell his master. He would be disappointed, and he didn’t want his flaws made so obvious for his master to see that he couldn’t continue to ignore them. He would throw himself into saber practice with the droids hia master had ordered, he would join him on as many missions as he could, practicing until he was finally as good as his master thought he was. 

When he got into the safety and privacy of their rooms, Obi-Wan stumbled immediately, having to steady himself on the desk and taking deep calming breaths. The saber burns were not nearly as deep as the wounds he had received from the vibroswords - another recent failure - but they hurt much much more. 

He needed some bacta for his burns, the one on his ass particularly deep and burning him even now, but when he looked in the cupboards in their bathroom cabinet, he couldn’t find any, remembering with a sudden frustrated whine that his master had mentioned using the last of it last night when they were playing, and needing to get some more for their room. 

He could go to the medical droids and get some easily enough, bacta was hardly in short supply on this ship, but he knew that if he got bacta from the droids, they would inform his master that he had, and he wouldn’t be able to keep this new failure a secret. His master couldn’t know, he couldn’t even beat his discarded apprentice in a sparring session; how was he a better option. 

Whimpering as he felt his skin continue to burn with the untreated wound, Obi-Wan started to run a bath in the large tub, making the water as cool as he could manage, before submerging himself in it. It hurt even more at first, but after a few minutes it finally started to soothe away the searing sensation running through Obi-Wan’s skin in three places, and he sagged in the water. 

He stayed in there for almost an hour, careful not to fall asleep with the relief. He couldn’t let his master find him in here, with the burns to his arm, chest and ass so ob

vious, and he hauled himself out of the blissfully cold water with plenty of time to spare. Without bacta, Obi-Wan only had once choice, and reached for the makeup and concealer that were kept in one of the other cupboards in their ‘fresher. He nearly emptied the bottle of concealer, crying out as it burned when he applied it, irritating the fresh wounds as he covered them up. 

His master should remember to get more bacta for them tomorrow, and Obi-Wan would be able to fix himself, his master would never need to know about his failure. The thought comforted him as he made his burns hurt more by rubbing make up against them. The one on his arm wasn’t too bad, the one on his chest was worse, and the one across his ass was awful, and difficult for him to cover up himself. 

He was shaking with sweat by the time he was done and quickly downed two painkillers to try and numb the burning. He needed to calm down or his master would know immediately that something was wrong - the only reason he didn’t already was the distance between them dampening their bond. 

Unable to sit and so instead lying with a pillow under the small of his back to lift his bottom from the bedding, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to meditate. He comforted himself by knowing that his master did not need to find out that he had lost the fight, and gradually was able to release his pain to the force. 

He meditated for long hours, but always kept an awareness on their bond, and when he felt it thicken and become strong again, signaling his master’s return to the ship, Obi-Wan quickly put the pillow away, and tried to act and look as normal as possible as the door to their quarters slid open with a familiar  _ shnick _ . 

He felt vulnerable from the pain, and he only realised how much it had shaken him when he saw his master, and the desire to sink into his arms and be held almost overwhelmed him. His master looked a little tanned just from a single day on Tatooine, and Obi-Wan couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward and getting his master’s arms around him. 

He was careful of his chest, creating a tiny amount of space to keep that from coming into contact with anything. His master’s arms circled him and pressed against the burn on his arm, Obi-Wan suppressed the cry that tried to leave him and nuzzled his head into Qui-Gon’s space. He never wanted to leave these arms, never wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Are you alright pet, you felt a little distressed while I was gone, but it was hard to tell, the bond struggles over such distances,” his master said, greeting him with a kiss. Had his master needed to go much further, Obi-Wan would have had to go with him, to protect their fledgling bond. They tested the limits of it occasionally, and between a planet and its orbit was their limit, before it began to strain and hurt. Obi-Wan was glad, for a moment, that their bond was not yet old and strong enough that his master could have sensed what was happening accurately. 

“You misread me, master,” Obi-Wan lied, looking up at his master through his lashes. He wanted to be held, wanted to feel his master and remember how loved he was, he needed it. “I was only missing you, so I had a little fun on my own, and only ended up making myself sad that you weren’t here too.”

He knew his lie had worked as a slow, indulgent smile spread out over his master’s lips and he was drawn by the chin into a deep, lingering kiss that pulled him up on his tiptoes. His chest pressed against Qui-Gon’s and he whimpered with the pain, but he shielded it hard, he wanted to be close to his master and he didn’t want his master to know what had happened. The pain made him feel small and he held onto his master’s clothes as he ended the kiss. 

“Oh pet, I can feel how desperate you are today. What bought this one today, hmm?” He asked, running his nose down the side of Obi-Wan’s face and kissing his jaw, Obi-Wan wanted to be consumed by his master, wanted his master to take care of everything, and he found that he already didn’t want to make words and instead he shrugged. “You’re not sure? That’s okay, you know how much I love you like this, so soft and sweet and eager.”

His master’s praise worked better than the cold bath had done to soothe his pain and his nerves, a balm that made him whine with relief and cuddle himself impossible closer, his master chuckling affectionately at his neediness. His master always knew what he needed, would look after him when he felt like this, make him feel good, make him feel  _ loved _ . He craved it, needed it, after what had happened that day. 

He tensed for a moment when his master slowly and gently undressed him, kissing various patches of revealed skin, but he didn’t notice anything, and by pure luck alone didn’t press his lips to the area of Obi-Wan’s chest that was covered in high tech concealer. His master went to put him on the bed, and Obi-Wan wriggled out of his grip, lying down on his front so that he didn’t hurt himself, putting his head on his arms and turning to look at his master with wide, imploring eyes. 

“Like this?” His master asked, stroking his back and coming to lie beside him on the bed, propped up on one arm. 

Obi-Wan nodded in response, every bit of contact between them soothing him, having to hold back tears of relief as his master kissed at the back of his neck and petted the small of his back. He was sinking into the bed just as quickly as he had sunk into this headspace after seeing his master. He felt flayed open and vulnerable, but that was okay when he had his master’s hands on him, keeping him safe.

“You are already gone, aren’t you pet,” his master chuckled, not really a question as he noticed how quickly Obi-Wan had slipped.

Obi-Wan’s mind was sluggish, he had slipped already, every feeling blissfully lost to him except the ones his master was lavishing on him. He felt safe and warm, didn’t want to think about anything except what he had right here. 

“Now pet, you did play without me, and without my permission, and you know what happens when you do that,” his master teased, rubbing at his back, lying alongside Obi-Wan and nosing at his neck. “I think that’s half the reason you  _ do _ it, isn’t it, pet?” His master asked, chuckling lowly when Obi-Wan mewled in response. 

His brain felt like syrup, his mind wasn’t connecting the dots of his master’s teasing words, just trying to sink into him, to enjoy that beautiful soft space his master had bought him down to so effortlessly. The hand rubbing his back left him, and Obi-Wan was about to make a protesting little sound, when with a smack Qui-Gon’s hand connected with his ass in a hard spank. 

Obi-Wan screamed as pain tore through his body, jerking and crawling away from his master as quickly as he could, he was cry and shouting with pain, his body felt like it was on fire and his master had hurt him. He usually enjoyed it when his master did that but he didn, it didn’t - he was in so much pain, tears were washing down his face, he could feel his master’s shock and panic at Obi-Wan’s reaction.

He struggled onto his back trying to shield himself from more blows, even though it hurt, even though he knew his master was frozen still. He could feel his soft, warm place becoming sharp and cold, couldn’t catch a single nice thought beyond how badly he hurt; catching instead on the ones that told him he deserved it for being such a failure, that he  _ had _ been bad; and worst of all, that his master would find out now.

He was crying so badly that it was hard to see anything, but he registered his master looking in stunned shock at his hand, and he saw the moment he noticed the concealer now smeared on his palm. 

There would be no hiding it now, and Obi-Wan felt his drop turn into a plummet, wondering how many times he could fail his master in one day. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing will always be my happy place, and your comments have been doing more for me than you could know, so thank you again <3
> 
> Warnings: Violence 

It took Qui-Gon longer than it should have to understand what he was looking at on his hand, and he didn’t have a chance to ask why, why was there concealer on his hand, a thick layer of makeup, because Obi-Wan was crying, he could feel the intensity of his drop down their bond, a flood of despair, anguish and pain threatening to swallow everything else whole. 

Obi-Wan was trying to get away from him, his green eyes wild as the darted around the room and failed to fix on anything, like he was being swept away with a current and couldn’t find anything to grab onto. 

“Obi-Wan, pet, I need you to listen to my voice,” Qui-Gon said, trying to keep himself as calm as possible knowing that it was what Obi-Wan needed right now even as his heart was hammering in his chest, such war of emotions going on inside himself. He had  _ hurt _ Obi-Wan, really hurt him, he didn’t understand how or what had gone wrong, only that he had, and now in his vulnerable state, Obi-Wan was scared and crying and his pain was bad enough that Qui-Gon could feel it himself. 

Obi-Wan was trying to make himself small, curling up near the headboard and it was clear that he hadn’t even heard Qui-Gon speak, he looked like he could barely see for the tears, and carefully, Qui-Gon reached out and wrapped a hand around Obi-Wan’s ankle in an attempt to ground him. He was relieved when Obi-Wan didn’t scream again - Qui-Gon knew he would never forget that sound for as long as he lived - but he did keep sobbing, even as he stilled a little. 

“Obi-Wan, my love, you can do it, listen to my voice,” Qui-Gon murmured with a steadying inhale, employing almost forgotten jedi techniques for releasing all of the explosive emotions trying to take hold of him into the force. He barely managed it, looking at Obi-Wan’s trembling form making those destructive emotions roar louder inside of him, but also forcing him to see how important it was that he dispense with them. Obi-Wan was terrified, and being volatile himself was only going to scare him more. 

“Focus on me Obi-love, it’s okay,” he soothed again, relief crashing over him when Obi-Wan’s watery eyes seemed to find him, coming to rest from their wild darting on Qui-Gon’s face. “Good boy, good Obi-Wan,” he praised, thumb rubbing small circles on Obi-wan’s ankle, and Obi-Wan looked down at his ankle, at the soft touch he was receiving, and a look of confusion came over his sobbing face that nearly crushed Qui-Gon in it’s grip. 

It was obvious that Obi-wan could speak, even if he hadn’t been heaving in huge gasps of air as he tried to breathe around his sobs he wouldn’t have been able to talk in this state. Obi-Wan had dropped before, but never like this, and Qui-Gon had never felt like more of a failure in his entire life. But he was not about to make this about him. 

He had a vague idea of what had happened, Obi-Wan had an injury somehow - though he’d only seen the barest hint of it through the concealer and Obiwan frantically moving away and turning over, and by spanking him as he often did, Qui-Gon had hurt him, badly. What Qui-Gon didn’t understand was how he’d gotten injured, or why Obi-wan hadn’t told him, or gotten some bacta from a medical droid. There was too much that wasn’t making any sense, but Obi-Wan wasn’t in a state to give him answers right now. 

“Obi-Wan I need you to try and breathe with me, alright pet?” Qui-Gon coaxed, he had no idea how welcome increased contact would be, given the pain he had just caused and the confused haze of Obi-Wan’s mind and was hesitant to increase it. But Obi-Wan was hyperventilating, not breathing properly, and all he wanted to do was draw him against his chest. 

Obi-Wan made a broken noise as he failed to match Qui-Gon’s breathing, and Qui-Gon knew him well enough to know what was going through his mind; his perceived failure, panicking that he had done something wrong. He felt like that at the smallest thing even when he wasn’t in such a vulnerable state. 

He tested another point of contact, hoping that it would be welcome, and moved a hand to Obi-Wan’s chest over his sternum, a light touch but one that had Obi-Wan shouting in fresh pain, crying harder, and when Qui-Gon snatched his hand back and looked down, he could see the faint traces of more concealer. 

Qui-Gon steady his breathing, released the tsunami of anger and desperation that was welling up inside him to the force, knowing it could do no good here, that he would be able to get his answers later, but right now he had to help his padawan. 

“Shh Obi-Wan, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry you’re hurt. I need you to be brave for me, and I need you to look at me again,” he hushed, Obi-Wan having screwed his eyes shut against a fresh wave of tears when Qui-Gon had touched his chest. He rubbed at Obi-Wan’s ankle, and was too aware of how little breath Obi-Wan was managing to catch. 

He stroked the delicate skin under his fingers, an area that seemed safe to touch, and forced himself to wait until Obi-Wan was able to do as he was asked, knowing that asking again would only make Obi-wan feel pressured, making him panic when he wasn’t immediately able to succeed. Eventually, after too long, Obi-Wan’s eyes met his again, green blurry from tears. 

“Good Obi-Wan, you’re so good. Can you hold my hand?” He asked, holding his free hand out, giving Obi-Wan the choice, he had no idea where Obi-Wan was safe to touch, and even the smallest amount of discomfort caused by him was only going to make things worse. 

Obi-Wan had curled up awkwardly, a strange shape as he tried to simultaneously not put any weight on his rear, and keep it from Qui-Gon’s view, and he realised suddenly, that Obi-Wan was desperate for him to not be able to see whatever was wrong. He reached out with the force for a spare blanket, caught it and quickly draped it over Obi-Wan’s naked body. 

Obi-Wan let out a mewl of relief around his sob’s, and his hand shot out to hold on to Qui-Gon’s as he rolled more onto his front, a more comfortable position, though he struggled to see Qui-Gon from it. Qui-Gon let go of Obi-Wan’s ankle, moved to sit closer to Obi-Wan’s head but carefully didn’t touch him any more than he already was. When Obi-Wan could see him without turning his neck at an awkward angle, Qui-Gon smiled at him and held his hand in both his own, bringing Obi-Wan’s palm up to his chest, and pressing it against his sternum. 

“Now I want you to try and listen to my heartbeat, okay, feel it with your hand and the force if you can,” he said, Obi-Wan’s lip trembling as he tried to do as he was asked. He still wasn’t speaking, but when new tears and sobs didn’t wrack him, Qui-gon decided he must have been successful. “Good, you’re doing so well Obi-Wan, you’re always so good. Focus on it for me, only that, don’t think about anything else. Let it fill you up. I am here, Obi-Wan. I love you and I want you, and you are so good for me.”

He forced himself to be quiet and patient again as he pressed Obi-Wan’s hand against his chest, feeling himself almost shatter with relief when he noticed that Obi-Wan’s heaving sobs were slowing gradually, and his padawan was finally able to catch his breath. 

He let a steady stream of praise shower over Obi-Wan as he clung to Qui-Gon’s heartbeat, and as the panic abated, he could feel the swirling mass of negative thoughts biting at Obi-Wan. He tried to brush them away, but it was like a thick fog, and any time Qui-Gon tried to smooth away one thought with the force, five more rushed to take its place. 

He stroked Obi-Wan’s arm, let his fingers ghost over the tender skin of his wrist; his forearm and hand at least appeared to be safe, though Qui-Gon dared not go any further until he understood the extent of Obi-Wan’s injuries. He continued murmuring praise as Obi-Wan’s tear began to stop, although Obi-Wan continued trembling badly enough to shake the mattress. 

“M-master?” Obi-Wan sniffed, his voice was far off and filled with so much regret and embarrassment that Qui-Gon had to steady himself all over again. He hadn’t expected Obi_Wan to speak, but was relieved that he had. 

“Yes pet, I’m here, I’ll always be here,” Qui-Gon murmured, he wanted to kiss Obi-Wan;s hand, but dared not use it as Obi-Wan was clearly using it as an anchor right now. 

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t good,” Obi-Wan’s voice struggled, he was forcing himself to speak before he was completely ready for it. Qui-Gon wanted to hush him, to tell him he didn’t have to speak, but usually when he was like this Qui-Gon would hold him in his arms until he felt better, and right now he couldn’t do that.

“No Obi-Wan you are good, you are perfect, my perfect padawan. I don’t know what happened, but I didn't mean to hurt you, and it is not your fault you were hurt either. You’re being so so good, Obi-Wan, so good.”

“Not your f-fault,” Obi-Wan whimpered, new tears forming as he continued trying to talk before he was ready, Qui-Gon hushed him and knew he needed to stop the talking, Obi-Wan trying to forcefully pull himself out of a drop like this was only going to make him feel worse, make the feeling linger for longer, and more sharply. 

“You’re doing so well pet, but I want you to stop talking for me, can you do that my good boy?” Qui-Gon said and he felt Obi-Wan’s relief through their bond; an instruct he could follow, one he was relieved to be given, and he looked up at Qui-Gon with wide, cloudy eyes and nodded. 

“Good boy, my love. I’m going to ask you some questions, but I only want you to either nod or shake your head, do you understand pet?” Obi-Wan nodded. “Good, if you need to shake your head you aren’t in trouble, and you aren’t disappointing me, I’ll be so proud of you for knowing your limits and looking after yourself, okay?”

Obi-Wan hesitated this time, but eventually nodded his head again, his fingers clinging to Qui-Gon’s shirt. 

“Good. Pet I know that you’re hurt on your bottom and your chest, is there anywhere else?” Qui-Gon asked, and his chest felt heavy as Obi-Wan nodded, near tears slipping past his eyes, and he pointed at his bicep. “On your arm as well, anywhere else?”

Obi-Wan shook his head this time, and he scrubbed unkindly at the tears tracking down his face, as if they shouldn’t be there, or was embarrassed by them. 

“Good pet, thank you so much for telling me that. Is it okay if I touch you were you aren’t hurt?” he asked, desperate to increase the contact between them, and relieved when Obi-Wan hesitantly nodded.

He moved closer to Obi-Wan on the bed pressing their sides together and stroking Obi-Wan’s hair while keeping one hand over Obi_Wan;s still pressing against his sternum. 

“Good boy, you’re doing so well. This next one is harder pet, and if you need to shake your head then that’s okay,” he said, combing his hand through Obi-Wan’s tangled hair. “Will you let me clean up the make-up on your chest and look at your wound?” Qui-Gon asked. 

The one on his chest hadn’t been so desperately hidden with the blanket, and from where his hand had removed a small amount of the concealer, Qui-Gon could see the faint trace of an angry red mark coming into view. There was a long pause as Obi-Wan chewed hard at his lower lip, before finally nodding his head, fresh tears tracking down his cheeks. 

“Thank you Obi-Wan, you’re being so perfect for me,” Qui-Gon praised, and he moved the blanket down with careful hands. Obi-Wan was on his side to keep his rear and chest away from contact with the bedding, it made the access awkward but Qui-Gon knew that moving him wasn;t an option, the only way he would be able to see more clearly and not have Obi-wan in new pain would be to make him stand, and Obi-Wan was clearly a long way off of being able to do that. 

He focused on the ‘fresher in his mind, reached out with the force and with no small amount of effort managed to bring a bowl of warm water and a flannel floating out towards him, coming to rest on the bedside table. He wetted the flannel and dabbed it first over Obi-Wan’s sweaty forehead, so that he knew what it felt like against his skin. 

“This might irritate the wound, it might hurt, if you need me to stop you just shake your head, alright pet, and I will stop right away,” he promised and Obi-wan nodded. 

When the flannel made contact with the concealer, Qui-Gon was as gentle as he could be, but Obi-Wan’s entire body still clenched up, he curled inwards and whimpered, squeezing Qui-Gon’s hand, but he didn’t shake his head. So with careful movements, Qui-Gon started to wipe the concealer away. There was no mistaking what he found as more and more of the make up came free; a burn slashed across Obi-Wan’s chest, mottling the flesh were it had seared it. 

Suddenly, Qui-Gon understood exactly what had happened. He understood that Xanatos, that pathetic worm, that ungrateful snivelling failure, had hurt his Obi-Wan when they had sparred. He thought about how many times he had told Obi-Wan that Xanatos wouldn’t challenge him, and wanted to tear our his own tongue, knowing his Obi-Wan well enough to know exactly why Obi-wan had been desperate to hide this, that Xanatos had beaten him. 

He was going to kill him, with every reddened, broken bit of skin Qui-Gon revealed on Obi-Wan’s chest, the thought clarified in his mind. He was going to find him and make him hurt, he was going to make him pay for what he had done to Obi-Wan. He was going to rip him apart piece by excruciating piece until there was nothing left of him. He was going to carve him out, make it slow, leave him dying for days, for  _ weeks _ before he got the relief of death. He was going to-

A distressed cry shook him from his thoughts, and he realised he was bleeding fury down their bond it was pouring off him so heavily and with gritted teeth, Qui-Gon forced the feeling down - not not away, he wanted it for later - so that it was controlled and caged for now, so that Obi-Wan didn’t have to feel it. 

They were in deep space, there was nowhere for Xanatos to go. He was trapped on this ship with Qui-Gon and he would still be trapped like this worthless rat he was when Obi-Wan was in a fit state to be left alone again.

“Shh, I’m sorry padawan, I need to control myself better. I am not angry with you, I am angry at the one that hurt you. I am sorry you thought you needed to hide this from me, that was my fault, not yours,” he soothed, stroking Obi-Wan’s hair until he felt him relax in increments again. 

Obi-Wan was tense but his tears slowed to a stop as Qui-Gon finished cleaning the wound on his chest. It wasn’t deep but burns didn’t need to be deep to cause an excruciating amount of pain. He reached for his communicator, and in as calm a voice as he could muster, instructed for bacta to be left outside his door.

“May I clean your arm?” He asked, and Obi-Wan nodded with slightly less hesitation this time. 

He only let out a small whimper as Qui-Gon cleaned away that smear of concealer. The wound on his arm was much smaller, and much less serious, and the water seemed to soothe it at least a little, whereas on his chest, it had only hurt at the contact. 

He felt when the bacta was left outside the door, and mustered a large amount of fine force manipulation to open the door and bring it all the way to him. He made sure Obi-Wan could see it, that he was understanding everything that Qui-Gon was doing. 

“I want to put bacta on your chest and arm, may I?” He asked, and Obi-Wan nodded quickly, whined in relief at the first touch of the cool, healing gel. 

He was generous with the amount he put on Obi-Wan’s skin, though he was reluctant to rub it into the burn with much force, worried about causing a flare of pain when they had made so much progress to get to this point. But the bacta was the best in the galaxy, and the relief to Obi-Wan’s pain was immediately clear as he seemed to sag a little, some - but far from all - of the tension dropping out of him. 

“Now Obi-love, I want to move the blanket and look at your bottom, can - ” he couldn’t finish his request before Obi-Wan ws shaking his head almost violently, whimpering and pulling the blanket more tightly around him. 

“Shh it’s okay Obi-Wan, it’s fine. I won’t look, okay my love. We’re going at your speed, only what you are ready for,” Qui-Gon reassured him, stopped himself from balling his fists. He could tell that the wound on his backside was the worst, that it was the one that needed to be cleaned and covered with bacta the most, but it would have to wait. 

He put the bacta aside and made sure Obi-Wan could see him doing it as he stroked his hair and hushed him.

“We’ll keep the blanket around you, does your chest feel a little better?” He asked and Obi-Wan nodded again, sniffing as a couple of new tears got past him. “That’s good, pet, would you like me to hold you?” He asked, and felt a catastrophic kind of relief when Obi-Wan nodded quickly. 

He moved down to lie properly beside Obi-Wan and turned onto his side to face him. He pressed up against Obi-Wan’s front, careful not to put too much pressure against his chest, and wrapped his arm around Obi-wan’s back, drawing him into a careful embrace. Obi-Wan clawed closer instantly, felt as if he was trying to climb inside of Qui-Gon’s skin, and he started crying again, sobbing into Qui-Gon’s chest as he buried his face in his neck, making the skin there wet. 

Qui-Gon would have panicked, but their bond let him know that these tears were from relief, the contact like a balm to Obi-Wan’s frayed headspace. He held Obi-Wan and rocked him gently, murmuring words of praise and reassurance as he tried - and made steady progress - to wipe away the negative feelings swarming around him, the increased contact making Obi-Wan much more receptive to what Qui-Gon was saying now. 

After a while of holding him like this, Obi-Wan dropped off into an exhausted sleep that was far too fitful for Qui-Gon’s liking, and he used their bond to carefully chase away the bad dreams that were trying to latch on to him, until Obi-Wan slept more peacefully. He monitored his sleep, and after a little more than an hour, when he felt Obi-Wan regain some genuine peace and come out of one deep rem cycle, he coaxed him awake. 

“Wake up for me, my love, good boy Obi-Wan, open your eyes,” he murmured, rubbing his hand down Obi-Wan’s spine. His eyes were tired and bleary but less wet and less hazy than they had been before his nap, though his hands tightened in Qui-Gon’s clothes almost immediately. 

“Good boy pet, do you feel a little better?” He asked, and Obi-Wan nodded, though he seemed even less inclined to speak than he had before - good, as far as Qui-Gon was concerned, it meant he was coming out of this at his own pace, and felt less guilty about that now. “Now if you still need to shake your head then that’s okay, you can go right back to sleep and I’ll hold you for as long as you want; but do you think I can move the sheet and clean up the wound on your bottom?”

Obi-Wan went still after he asked again, neither shaking his head nor nodding, only gnawing on his lower lip. His conundrum was almost screaming ast Qui-Gon through their bond; if he nodded it would feel better, but if he shook his head then his master still wouldn’t see. 

“It will feel much better with some bacta, and then we can go to sleep for as long as you need, your chest feels so much better already, doesn’t it?” Qui-Gon coaxed, and he showered Obi-Wan with praise as he slowly nodded his assent. 

Qui-Gon helped him to roll over, careful to keep at least one point of contact between them at all times, knowing that that was vital to Obi-Wan even when he was in the enjoyable version of this vulnerable headspace. Obi-Wan started to tremble but didn’t protest or shake his head as Qui-Gon moved the sheet. 

He wetted the flannel and started to wipe away the mask of concealer, he took steadying breaths as he went to keep his emotions under control as a deep burning gash was revealed to him, right across the seat of Obi-Wan’s rear. It had blistered, looked as though it was still burning even now, an angry red screaming up at Qui-Gon against Obi-Wan’s usually pale skin. 

With a gargantuan effort he kept himself calm. Obi-Wan whimpered and shook as he wiped away the make up as carefully as he could and applied the bacta, Obi-Wan whining loudly with both relief and pain as Qui-Gon rubbed the healing gel into the wound. 

“Good boy Obi-Wan, you’re so good,” he praised, feeling terrible as even the gel being carefully rubbed into his behind caused Obi-Wan enough pain to make him cry; and he had  _ hit _ him there. “There, there pet it’s all done, we’re all done,” he soothed, helping Obi-Wan to roll over again. 

He squirmed into Qui-Gon’s space, pressing close to Qui-gon and clinging to him, crying himself out as Qui-Gon stroked his back and held him close, dropping kisses to Obi-Wan’s head until his breathing finally calmed again, and his pain started to truly abate as the bacta got to work. 

“Good boy,” Qui-Gon murmured, kissing Obi-Wan’s temple as the tension began to finally bleed from his muscles more completely. 

“Sleep?” Obi-Wan managed to say, his voice exhausted and muffled from the way his face was buried in Qui-Gon’s neck. 

“Yes my love we can go to sleep. I will stay right here for as long as you want,” he promised, and Obi-Wan sunk easily back into sleep as he gave back in to his exhaustion. 

It took Qui-Gon longer to find enough peace to sleep, knowing that somewhere on his ship Xanatos was roaming around freely. But he couldn’t leave Obi-Wan, and he couldn’t be certain anyone else on his ship would be able to stop and subdue Xanatos; and he didn’t want the parasite to have enough warning to flee the ship, if his crew bungled an attempt to throw him in the brig. 

So for now Xanatos was left to slither around the ship, and Qui-Gon had to work himself into meditation before he was able to find any rest.

Obi-Wan was a little better in the morning, though he woke up late, and he accepted some of the food Qui-Gon fed to him, eating just enough for him not to find a new thing to worry about. He got Obi-Wan into the bath, and they rested for a long time in there, Obi-Wan’s burns soothed by the water as he rested against Qui-Gon’s chest and dozed off again while Qui-Gon petted his back. 

The bubbles were all gone and their skin was pruned by the time Obi-Wan showed any desire to get out, letting Qui-Gon carefully towel him off and reapply the bacta to his injuries. 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said quietly after Qui-Gon finished applying bacta to his rear, his eyes were downcast and ashamed, but his voice was steady again, and it seemed he was returning to himself. Qui-Gon drew him into his chest and kissed the top of his head. 

“It is not your fault.”

“I should have told you I was hurt, that Xanatos-,” he broke off, biting his lip and looking away.

“Yes, you should have. But I understand why you felt like you couldn’t and that was my fault, not yours,” he said, taking his chin gently in his hand and turning Obi-Wan back to face him. “But I need you to promise me that you will never hide something like that from me again.”

“I promise,” Obi-Wan replied, before continuing at a whisper. “I felt so useless, when he beat me so easily.”

“You are not useless, Obi-Wan, I think so little of him that I underestimate him, in more way than one, and you were unprepared. He was supposed to help you to spar, and instead he took the opportunity to hurt you, and he will pay for that. I am going to make him pay for it.”

“When?” Obi-Wan asked, in a tiny voice, his arms crossing over his chest. “I don’t like that he is just walking around, I don’t feel safe. He  _ hates _ me master, so much, I-I think he wanted to kill me.”

“I will  _ never _ let him touch you again, pet, I promise you. And I will deal with him as soon as you feel steady enough to be left on your own for a little while.”

“I-I feel okay now,” Obi-Wan said, his body trembling for a moment again. 

“Pet, I can feel that you aren’t,” Qui-Gon replied, rubbing at his shoulders. 

“I’m not okay, but I think knowing Xanatos was- wasn’t just roaming around would help. A lot.”

“Alright, pet,” Qui-Gon said, understanding better. Obi-Wan’s lips sought his for a sweet kiss at his words, and his padawan allowed himself to be tucked into bed with his communicator on the table beside him before Qui-Gon left their rooms. 

On a private line he commed his lieutenant in the operations suite, and was told that Xanatos was on the bridge. As he walked, he let all of the fury he had stored away inside of himself roar back to life, freed from its cage. He wanted it now, and as he entered the bridge with a dark presence, he was a creature of pure, controlled rage. 

“Lord Avarus,” the bridge greeted him formally as he walked into it. Xanatos turned as his presence was announced, he didn’t even look worried, as if he had really thought that Qui-Gon wouldn’t find out. He had preyed on Obi-Wan’s shame, on his feeling of inadequacy, and the simple happenstance that there had been no bacta in their room was likely the only reason his little plan hadn’t worked. 

He looked pleased when Qui-Gon approached, thinking he was about to get some of the attention he craved so pathetically, and he opened his dirty fucking mouth to speak. 

“Ah, I’m glad you’re here, I was just about to-” 

His worthless words were cut off as Qui-Gon grabbed him by the throat, hard enough that his nails dug into the skin and drew blood and he hit Xanatos with a closed fist across his face as hard as he was able, making him bleed. While Xanatos was stunned by the sudden attack, he found his lightsaber and threw it across the room, it clattered to Gardan’s feet and the commander picked it up and secured it away from a force grab, before continuing with his duties as if nothing was happening, along with everyone else on the bridge. 

“Avarus! I don’t - ”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know Xanatos,” Qui-Gon snarled, reaching into his pockets and securing a set of brass knuckles around his fingers before hitting Xanatos again, two more heavy blows to the face, two to the gut, all while he was being held by a blood grip on his neck. His face had been opened with cuts from the knuckles, but it wasn’t enough, could never be enough. 

He hit him again before kicking out his knees brutally, probably breaking at least one of them as he forced Xanatos to his knees. 

Qui-Gon held Xanatos down by his throat, reached inside him with the force and squeezed every organ he had, making Xanatos release a scream of pain the likes of which Qui-Gon had never heard before. Good. Then he took his saber, and slowly, so slowly, dragged it in a line over Xanatos’s face. He forced the hateful thing in his grip still when he struggled and tried to thrash, broke his shoulder viciously, and held him by it so that he could carve into his face. 

Opening up skin with a lightsaber always created a stench, burning flesh filling up the air as Xanatos’ skin melted under his red blade, he shrieked like nothing else when his left eye began to melt into syrup, and Qui-Gon used his control of the force to stop Xanatos being able to pass out from the pain. He deserved to feel it. 

By the time he was done there was a nasty, putrid deep gash running from Xanatos’ temple to his chin, bisecting his face; one of his eyes was mangled and ruined, only half there, his nose was burned open and lips were gouged and ruined. Qui-Gon dumped him on the floor and watched as he convulsed in agony. 

He didn’t let him rest, reached down for a handful of Xanatos’ long tangled black hair, and used it to drag him along the floor. It was a long walk down to the brig, and Xanatos screamed through it all. Qui-Gon threw him into a cell and loomed over the pathetic creature writhing on the floor beneath him, his once beautiful face now a gruesome mess, his shoulder hanging half out the socket, limp and useless by his side. One of his eyes was almost completely gone, and even if Xanatos were to receive medical treatment, his lips would never be the same again. 

“Bring me a mirror,” Qui-Gon barked the order at one of the droids in the brig, Xanatos either didn’t hear or couldn’t care over the intensity of the agony his body was in. Qui-Gon wondered how it felt, to have someone reach into your very chest with the force and dig into your heart and lungs, but Xanatos was certainly struggling for breath still. 

He watched with a not small sense of enjoyment as Xanatos convulsed on the floor, and when he was handed the mirror, he waited until Xanatos had stopped convulsing before he continued. He wanted Xanatos’ present enough to understand what was happening to him, what was going to happen next; he wanted that anxiety to plague him, to be wondering when the next hurt would come, to know how bad it would be. Let it steal his sleep from him, stop him from ever resting or finding any peace. Xanatos had never managed to control his emotions, much less release them to the force. 

When the screaming stopped, Qui-Gon missed it, but Xanatos returning to himself was what he wanted, at least for now. He crouched down and took Xanatos by the next again, his body to weak to fight back as he was dragged upwards, and Qui-Gon shoved the mirror in his face. 

“Oh Xanatos, look at you now. I said  _ look _ ,” Qui-Gon snarled when Xanatos screwed the lid of his eye shut - the other eyelid had been burned down to nothing - and he squeezed Xanatos’ face until he felt bone beginning to fracture under his grip, and Xanatos’s eyes flew open. He whimpered pathetically at what he saw. “You don’t even have your pretty face anymore, do you. It was your one redeeming quality, the only thing that ever gave you any worth at all, and it’s gone now.” Qui-Gon sneered, dropping Xanatos back to the cold metal floor and dropping the mirror onto his chest. 

Xanatos pushed the mirror away and it skidded across the floor, but Qui-Gon knew him well, knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking a better look later, would agonise over his lost beauty. Qui-Gon knew that that loss would hurt Xanatos more than any other. It was the one he would focus on, and never recover from, as Qui-Gon took and took and took.

“Treat him so that he doesn’t die. But I want him in pain,” Qui-Gon said, voice cold and hard as steel as he stepped out of the cell, bringing the forcefield up as he left. 

“Yes Lord Avarus,” the medical droid’s mechanical voice answered him, starting to set out thin strips of bacta, usually only used to superficial wounds. They would make sure Xanatos didn’t bleed out or get an infection before he was done with him, but they would do nothing to properly close the wounds. 

“Why don’t you just kill me!” Xanatos screamed, throwing himself at the forcefield and being sent flying back, crashing into the wall of his cell. 

“Oh, I am going to. But it is going to be slow, Xanatos, you are going to feel every piece I take from you. You are dirt, and I could never have loved you,” Qui-Gon sneered, knowing that his words were a better hurt against Xanatos than his actions would ever be, and he laughed cruelly as Xanatos hammered his fist against the wall, making his hands bloody. 

“He’ll still never be what you want, what you  _ need _ . Look at how he clings to the light, do you really believe he is never going to leave you? That he won’t see something that he doesn’t like some day, and abandon you and everything you gave him,” Xanatos spat, his face was still burning, the skin around the gash his saber had made bubbling. 

“Keep talking, Xanatos,” Qui-Gon snarled, wrapping a hand around Xanatos’s neck with the force and squeezing, growing frustrated when the younger man didn’t even flinch at the treatment. “And I will cut out your tongue, take your other eye, and then sell whatever is left to the most dangerous pleasure house I can find. Do you know what the Vadhoh like to do with prostitutes? I do.”

He was satisfied when he could see fear finally creep its way up Xanatos’ spine and released his neck, sneering when the wretched thing still gnashed his teeth and threw his weight against the forcefield again, giving his body another battering. 

For a moment, Qui-Gon wondered if Xanatos would kill himself to try and avoid the fate Qui-Gon had planned for him - because it would be the  _ only _ way for him to avoid it - but no, Xanatos loved himself far too much to ever reach for such an end, he would still believe that he could slither his way out of this, a delusion that would likely follow him all the way to the grave. 

“Tomorrow I will return, and I think I will take a finger, take your hair, bloody up your face a little more and leave you just a little less whole again. I’m also going to fit you with a force collar...yes, perhaps one of the ones we discovered on Kibol - do you remember? The ones that were nailed directly into the flesh, impossible to remove. I’m sure I could have one requisitioned.”

He walked away as Xanatos roared, threw himself against the forcefield again and no doubt caused himself unimaginable pain as he did, but it didn’t stop the feral, rabid thing in that cell. Qui-Gon would reduce him to no more than an animal, before he was done with him. He laughed as Xanatos screamed, from pain or anger or something else entirely he had no idea. He would let him stew, let him worry about what was to come. Xanatos had always been a useful outlet for his more dangerous emotions, only now he wouldn’t have to control himself at all. 

“Is he gone?” Obi-Wan asked when Qui-Gon returned to their room, he was still tucked up in bed, still felt flayed open down their bond, still shaken by what had happened. It made him want to stalk back to the brig right now and cleave another part of Xanatos away. 

“No, he is in the brig, where he will stay until I am done with him,” Qui-Gon replied, sitting on the bed beside Obi-Wan, stroking his hair and encouraging Obi-Wan to curl into his side. “He will not be able to hurt you again, Obi-Wan, you have my word.”

“Are you hurting him?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon replied, not a trace of remorse in his words. Obi-Wan cuddled closer. 

“Good,” he said, and he felt a flare of the dark rise up inside his padawan for just a moment, before it was released to the force, and light swam back in to replace it again. 

“How are you feeling?” Qui-Gon asked, placing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead and toying with his braid; it was no longer a plain thing, there were beads and threads wound into it, touching past his shoulder now too. Tokens of Qui-Gon’s affection, reminders of places they had been together, things they had done, badges of achievement for Obi-Wan when he mastered something new in his training. 

“I don’t know. I feel okay, I think,” Obi-Wan said, but Qui-Gon could sense the unease that still drifted around him, the slightly tense set of his shoulders, the way his eyes were a little too wide.

“You don’t need to say that you feel better because you think that you should be by now. I want you to take exactly as long as you need, and I want you to be honest with me about how you feel, so that I can help you,” he replied, still trailing the braid between his fingers and nuzzling the top of Obi-Wan’s head. 

They would have to talk, at some point, about why Obi-Wan had lied to him, and tried to cover up his injuries, to make sure that it didn’t happen again, but now did not seem like the time. He needed Obi-Wan to be back to his usual self, before attempting a conversation like that. 

“I’m sorry. I still feel strange, like there is a weight on my chest that I don’t know how to lift off. It doesn’t hurt exactly, but it’s heavy, like I could slip and fall again from the slightest thing, like anything could set me off. As if I am just one wrong thing away from bursting into tears,” Obi-Wan admitted, his face hidden; he always found it easier to talk about these things with his face hidden away, and Qui-Gon continued to play with his hair.

“Thank you for telling me,” Qui-Gon said, soaking in Obi-Wan’s relief as he shared how he was feeling. He hoped that some of the pressure to feel better faster than he was ready was lifted from his padawan’s shoulders. 

He hated that for all his power, there was nothing he could do to make Obi-Wan feel better faster. He wanted to reach into the force somehow and make it wipe away every negative feeling Obi-Wan was still feeling. But he knew that time was the only real thing that would help, time and contact, and he would give all that he had to Obi-Wan without a second thought. 

He held Obi-Wan again, checked his wounds and was relieved to find the ones on his chest and arm gone except for a patch of pinked skin, and the one on his rear close to healed as well. Gradually, over the course of the evening, Obi-Wan started to really come out of hsi drop, feeling more and more like his usual self, becoming cheeky for Qui-Gon’s attention once more, a little bounce returning to his step.

His fury returned in the small hours of the next morning, when his communicator bleeped, and his crew informed him that the Nova had been stolen from the hangar, and Xanatos had escaped. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I love you (✿◠‿◠) you're all wonderful, your comments are the absolute highlight of my day and i now compulsively check my emails
> 
> i don't think this one needs any extra warnings <3

Ever since Xanatos had escaped there had been a dark cloud around his master, one that Obi-Wan was only able to briefly chase away, and returned whenever his master was given time to brood. Obi-Wan didn’t particularly care where Xanatos was, that he was off of their ship and nowhere near either of them anymore was enough for his peace of mind. 

“No pet, he needs to pay. No one escapes me,” Qui-Gon had growled when Obi-Wan tried to convince him to let it go. 

From what he had seen over the last few days, Qui-Gon’s reach was terrifying, nary a single corner of the galaxy he didn’t have some contact or another in, that was either scared or loyal enough to give him the information he was after. But the galaxy was a large place, and even his master couldn’t search it all. 

It hadn’t been too difficult to work out how Xanatos had managed his escape, and he knew a lot of his master’s rage was at himself, for underestimating Xanatos a second time. It seemed that after Qui-Gon had broken his jaw and denied him treatment for hours Xanatos had reprogrammed a couple of the medical droids, made them obedient to his commands first and foremost so that he wouldn’t be left without treatment again. It had been simple enough to get the droid to drop the forcefield to his cell with that command in its system, and it had already healed him far better than Qui-Gon had wanted, when Xanatos had given it that command also. 

Qui-Gon had smashed the droids into pieces, their debris still littering the brig as for some reason he hadn’t wanted them cleared up. Xanatos knew the ship better than everyone but Qui-Gon, and adept with the force he had been able to slip through the hallways unnoticed by the skeleton crew that kept the ship running and moving at night easily. There hadn’t been report of a break out in the brig, the two human guards that had been station down there murdered quickly and quietly before they could send off a warning, so no one had been looking for him. 

In the hangar, Xanatos had taken the Nova, the only ship down there capable of hyperspace jumps, and had vanished into space, the crew only noticing something was wrong when the hangar bay opened, and the ship entered hyperspace. The technology to track hyperspace jumps was being developed, according to his master, but it was far from ready, and they had no way of following him with the Deimos. Xanatos had slipped through their fingers just like that. 

Obi-Wan was compelled to simply think _good riddance_ and be glad he was never going to have to see the other man again, but he was going to have his work cut out for him to convince his master to let it go. But Obi-Wan had never been one to back down from a challenge. 

“You’re pacing again,” he commented as his master walked to and fro in his office, Obi-Wan was curled up in his high-backed chair, tracking him with his eyes and a fond smile on his mouth. 

“I’m thinking,” Qui-Gon replied, his hair was mostly tied up today and Obi-Wan wondered if taking it down and running his fingers through it would help to release some of the tension his master was carrying. 

After almost three days of being pampered and looked after by his master he felt as though it was time he tried to return the favour, in a flavour more suited to what helped Qui-Gon to unwind. 

He still felt guilty over what had happened, he never should have been dishonest with his master or kept something so important from him. It had been a difficult conversation as he had come back to himself, one that made him burn with shame and embarrassment, but one that he would admit that he needed to have. He knew by now that his master was not going to abandon him, and he needed to have a little more faith. They had become much more than master and apprentice to one another. 

“Why don’t you tell me about what happened on Tatooine?” Obi-Wan suggested, getting tired just watching his master move restlessly. He had a datapad in his hand - one of many strewn on the desk - and intelligence report about a possible sighting of Xanatos, or perhaps of wherever the Nova had been dumped, Obi-Wan was finding it hard to keep track.

So many people were so keen to be on Darth Avarus’ good side that when he had sent the call for information, he had gotten back an influx of possibilities, and people that somewhat matched the description, just in case. His more trusted lieutenant had been sifting through it, and providing Qui-Gon with the most promising leads, not that any of them had led to anything yet. 

“I don’t think you want to hear about Tatooine, Obi-Wan,” his master replied, and Obi-Wan tried hard not to think about the specific piece of business his master had gone down to complete. 

“Not that, you said that you found something there. Or at least, you started to, before you got distracted,” Obi-Wan said, poking at the very pile of datapads that had distracted him. 

“Oh, there was a child of interest,” Qui-Gon replied, lowering the datapad to better speak to Obi-Wan. 

“Interest how?” Obi-Wan asked, putting his hand on his drawn up knees and resting his cheek on his fist as he watched Qui-Gon. 

“He was perhaps eight years old, and he was racing a pod.”

“That’s so dangerous! Who would let him do such a thing?” Obi-Wan asked, he had enjoyed watching the podraces with his master when they had been on planets that ran them, but he had never considered that anyone would put a child in one of the races. They were almost entirely without rules, and half the competitors didn’t even cross the finish line. 

“He was a slave, how much say he had in the matter is questionable. But he was clearly happy to be there. He was good, far too good for any normal human.”

“Did he win?”

“No, but he would have if another racer hadn’t sabotaged his pod and caused him to crash. He’s fine, pet,” his master reassured, when he saw Obi-Wan’s look of alarm. 

“A podrace is no place for a child,” he said again, but slavery was no place for a child either. Frankly Tatooine was no place for anyone. 

“Be that as it may, his reflexes must have been incredible, to be able to race a pod in an arena like that with no formal force training…” Qui-Gon trailed off, coming to sit on the edge of his desk just millimetres away from where Obi-Wan was sitting in the chair. 

“I suppose the jedi haven’t found him because they have no reach on planets like Tatooine,” Obi-Wan replied, resting his hand on one of Qui-Gon’s knees and tracing patterns into the heavy black fabric of his trousers. 

“I want to test his midichlorian count, I think he is powerful,” Qui-Gon mused aloud, finding Obi-Wan’s braid and running it through his fingers, encouraging Obi-Wan to lean closer, and rest his cheek on Qui-Gon’s knee instead of his own, shifting around in the chair until he was more comfortable. 

“You want to train him?”

“I don’t know. If he is as powerful as I think he is, then by bringing him here, away from that insipid sand planet, all I am really doing is delivering him directly into Sidious’ hands.”

“I thought Sidious didn’t like to have direct apprentices, especially not children.”

“He doesn’t, he doesn’t like them, wouldn’t trust his own apprentices, not after what he did to his own master. He is too paranoid. But I don’t think he would be able to resist the allure of an untrained child that powerful,” Qui-Gon replied, rubbing a hand thoughtfully through his neatly kept beard. 

“So you would be condemning the child to a life being controlled by Sidious.”

“Essentially, yes. He would find a way to exploit his power, but also keep him weak and controllable; I have a few ideas how one could manage that, and none are pleasant. But to leave him on Tatooine is an almost intolerable waste. It almost doesn’t matter at the moment anyway.”

“What makes you say that?” Obi-Wan asked, resisting the urge to let his eyes flutter closed when his master carded one of his large hands through his hair. It was longer now, swept back and touching the base of his neck, he liked the way it looked, would probably keep it this way. 

“Because he would never come with us at the moment. He is a slave on a planet that knows all too well that the empire maintains that particular trade. He would never come with me willingly, would be more likely to make some foolish attempt to kill me,” his master explained, tracing a finger around the shell of Obi-Wan’s ear. “I have no desire for an unwilling apprentice.”

“But if you freed the slaves like you want to…”

“Yes, then I imagine he would come willingly. But Sidious will not allow it, and if I push on behalf of this boy, I will only guarantee Sidious’ interest in the boy. I have no desire to hand deliver the emperor a child that could be so easily trained into a rabid attack dog for him.”

“So what will you do?” Obi-Wan asked as they had talked themselves in a circle about this mystery child. 

“For now, nothing. He will remain on Tatooine, and I will keep his existence a secret from the other sith. But I may send Gardan down to the planet to take a sample of his blood for testing,” Qui-Gon replied, Commander Gardan easily his most trusted second, but the emperor had eyes and ears everywhere, even on their ship.

“What about me?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling guilty for doing so, but unable to stop the question from escaping him. He averted his eyes from his master’s face, instead watching where he was toying with a bunch in the fabric of his pants.

“What do you mean, pet?” His master asked, swiping a thumb over Obi-Wan’s cheek lovingly, before tugging playfully at his braid. 

“If you found a way to train this boy. What about me?”

“No one could ever replace you, if that is what you fear, Obi-Wan. Your place is by my side, and I would rip apart the galaxy if anyone tried to take you away from me.”

“Still, if you took another apprentice, I would have less of your time,” Obi-Wan mumbled, he wanted to monopolise Qui-Gon for the rest of time, the idea of having to share him with another padawan left a cold feeling gnawing at his chest - he was jealous of a child that was still stuck in a slave’s life on a barren planet, and he felt ridiculous. 

“Even if I took another apprentice, Obi-Wan, you would be my only padawan,” Qui-Gon replied softly, and Obi-Wan felt warmth blossoming in his chest, smoothing out that cold feeling that had tried to grow. “Besides, he would be entirely untrained, I see no reason why you couldn’t train him also.”

“I’m only a padawan myself,” Obi-Wan replied, a blush rising in his cheeks as he thought about it, admitted that something about it sounded nice, the picture of himself and Qui-Gon training a young force sensitive. 

“You will not always be, and you have plenty to teach already. But we are getting ahead of ourselves, pet. All that matters is that you understand that no one could ever replace you,” his master said, catching Obi-Wan’s chin in his hand and bending down to run his nose along Obi-Wan’s in an almost overwhelmingly affectionate gesture.

“I understand,” Obi-Wan replied quietly, feeling oddly shy. “It’s the same for me.”

“Mm, I love you, my Obi-Wan,” his master smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. 

“I love you too, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan replied, leaning up a little further and catching his master’s lips with his own. 

Qui-Gon’s beard was a familiar prickle against his cheeks as they kissed, and were it not for the bacta and water solution he rubbed on his own smooth cheeks every morning, he would be constantly rough with beard burn. He wondered what he would look like with a beard, and whether or not his master would like it if he grew one, but that was a question for another day. 

When his master likely expected him to start to pull away, Obi-wan instead deepened their kiss, pressing up further into his master’s space and opening his lips, moaning happily when his master’s tongue instantly dipped into his mouth. The feeling of his master’s tongue against his own would always excite Obi-Wan more that iit likely should for all the other - far more scandalous - things they got up to together. But there was something about it that he never grew tired of or used to. 

Qui-Gon’s kisses always felt like they were going to devour him whole and left Obi-Wan gasping. The feeling of his tongue licking into Obi-Wan’s mouth, exploring him before fucking into hsi mouth more forcefully; the way he would growl if Obi-Wan pushed back, licking into his mouth too, and hold his face in a tighter grip as he took back control; the way he would bite at Obi-Wan’s lips untl they were red, wet and swollen; the way he would nip his lower lip and drag it between his teeth, forcing Obi-Wan to whimper and follow him. 

And his master never just kissed with his lips, it was a full body experience every time. His face was clasped first in both of his master’s huge hands, encompassing both sides of his face almost completely, moving Obi-Wan’s head however he wanted it, so that Obi-Wan was exactly where he wanted him. And even now, in this position on his master’s desk chair, so much lower than his master where he was perched on the desk, there managed to be more to the kiss still. 

His master had dragged him forward, until he was settled between his master’s spread legs, trapped between the vee they created and the chair, unable to escape - as if he would want to - and at his master’s mercy. Obi-Wan’s hands were gripping his master’s knees, using them for leverage as he pushed his body upwards, so that he could be better kissed by his master, and one of his master’s large hands moved from his face, took hold of the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and took him in a commanding grip that made him whimper. 

“I love having you in this room, pet,” his master murmured between kisses, his voice was gravelly and he drew Obi-Wan into another long kiss after he spoke, leaving Obi-wan panting and flushed from the way his master’s tongue had fucked into his mouth. 

He was fixating on the hands on his body, just how much of him they encompassed, and sat with his master looming over him like this, Obi-Wan was confronted with just how _big_ his master was, how intense the size difference between them was as he was bracketed into the chair that was too big for him. 

“You like it too, don’t you. The feeling of being taken in this room. What do you like better, I wonder, when I let you sit under my desk and warm my cock while I work, or when i bend you over it and fuck you until you can barely remember your own name?” His master mused lowly, every word he said in that velvety baritone voice making Obi-Wan shiver with anticipation and want. 

“Both,” Obi-Wan whined, entirely unwilling to chose - unable to chose - he loved the feeling of his master’s cock in his mouth, stretching in lips wide and buried in his throat just as much as he liked the feeling of his master’s fat cock fucking into his hole, ploughing against his prostate and making him feel so good he could barely see. 

“You’re so greedy pet. That’s my fault isn’t it. Do you remember what you were like when you first got here? You were so sweet, pet, you didn’t even want to eat the nice food I got you, or accept your expensive gifts. You didn’t like your room, and you thought that anything I got for you was decadent, and you didn’t know how to touch yourself either, did you pet?” His master teased between nips at Obi-Wan’s lips. The hands on his skin were becoming possessive, owning, like a welcome brand across Obi-Wan’s skin; he was Avarus’, and Avarus was his, and nothing would come between them. 

“I remember,” Obi-Wan replied, he worried sometimes, that he had changed too much, but his master made it clear each and every day how much he liked the changes, how much he still wanted Obi-Wan every day. And Obi-Wan certainly was not above playing up his long lost innocent for his master’s enjoyment, or his own. 

“You were so sweet, you blushed so pink. It took everything I had not to spend every waking minute of every day trying to get you into my bed. And when you came to me, pet, you were so so beautiful. But as you are now? You are everything I could have possibly dreamed of. You’re still so sweet for me, aren’t you, my Obi-Wan?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied, biting down on his lower lip and letting his eyes go wide as he looked up at his master. Qui-Gon gave him a heated look, the gold of his eyes being swallowed by black as he looked down at Obi-Wan, his hand cupper Obi-Wan’s chin, and when he pressed his thumb against Obi-Wan’s lower lip, it was instinct for Obi-Wan to yield under the touch, open his mouth and suck his master’s digit into his mouth, looking up at his master from under his lashes, loving the way he loomed over Obi-Wan in this position. 

After a few moments his master pulled his thumb back, chuckling lowly at Obi-Wan’s disappointed whine, the way he tried to chase him with his lips, but settled again when his master put his index and middle finger in his mouth instead, wet thumb stroking at Obi-Wan’s jaw.. 

He liked it when his master did this, or when he left Obi-Wan sleep with two of his thick fingers resting in his mouth. It did something to him, made his eyes drift shut as he sucked rhythmically, taking his master’s thumb as deep as they would go. He caught his master’s wrist when he tried to pull his hand back, even though he had let Obi-Wan have a long time on his fingers already. He made another protesting sound and opened his eyes, looking up at his master with a pleading expression, and shivering under the heavy gaze that landed on him. 

“Feeling needy, pet? It’s not even the evening yet,” his master teased, and a blush came to Obi-Wan’s cheeks, thinking about how his master had taken him only that morning, and yet he was already hard in his pants again, so desperate for his master’s touch all the time. 

He didn’t answer with words, just sucked on his master’s fingers and used his free hand to snake his way up Qui-Gon’s long thigh, rubbing his palm over the gradually growing bulge he found there. 

“If you want something, pet, I’m going to need you to ask for it,” Qui-Gon purred, fixing him with that infuriating smile when Obi-Wan made a desperate little noise. Even now, after so many months with his master, there was something embarrassing to him about being made to ask. “Come on pet, I know you can do it. How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t ask me?”

“I want your cock,” Obi-Wan whined, voice muffled by the fingers in his mouth, and Qui-Gon smiled down at him wickedly.

“Hmm, where do you want it, pet? In which of your greedy little holes? Or perhaps neither, maybe you want me to stroke myself right here, with you so sweet and needy between my legs, until I come all over that lovely face of yours,” his master’s voice rumbled it was so low, making the dirty words seem even naughtier. 

He wanted everything his master had said, he always wanted everything his master had said to him. He wanted both of his holes to be filled and for his master to come all over his body again and again; but as he only wanted his master’s touch, he had to settle for one thing at a time. 

“Come on pet, tell me what you want properly this time,” his master said, drawing his fingers out of Obi-Wan's mouth and ignoring his needy whine, holding him still with a gentle but firm grip on his chin.

“I want you in my mouth, master, I want to suck on your cock. Please master, please let me,” Obi-Wan whimpered, his uncoordinated hands pawing at his master’s pants, relieved when his master let him start on the fastenings and begin getting him open. 

“Is that all you want, pet? I promise you that I’ll give you anything you want, but I will only give you what you ask me for,” his master teased, knowing how red it made Obi-Wan blush to say the things he wanted, too many years of purity to wipe that away so quickly. “Be good pet and tell me, and then you can have my cock in your greedy little mouth.”

“No, I wanna- I want you to put me over your desk and use my hole too,” Obi-Wan said, face flaming with every word he said now, but too desperate to get what he wanted to stop. “But then I want you to come on my face mater, please, I want your come,” Obi-Wan pleaded, and his master smile, bent down again and kissed him filthily. 

“You want everything I said earlier don’t you,” he teased, and Obi-Wan nodded his head almost frantically. He had gotten his master’s zipper and buttons ope, his big cock now tenting his pants as Obi-Wan worked the hardening cock out of his clothes. “You’re such a greedy boy, my greedy pet.”

His master took hold of his cock and pressed the thick head against Obi-Wan’s kiss-swollen lips, pressing it against them and praising Obi-Wan as he kissed and licked at what he was offered, tasting his master’s salty precome and immediately wanting more. 

“Open your mouth, pet,” his master instructed, and Obi-Wan was quick to comply, soaking up the praise that followed. His lips were used to this by now, loved it, but were still spread wide by the girth of his master’s cock, working to cover his teeth as his master fed him his cock inch by inch, pushing Obi-Wan’s head down with his hand until his master was completely buried in his throat, and he could nuzzle his face into his master’s base. 

He had been forced to kneel on the chair to get higher, wanting a good angle on his master’s cock, so that he could be comfortable for however long he was allowed to stay like that. His arms were supporting him a little, resting on his master’ thighs, his spread legs drawing Obi-Wan in, making him feel safe between them. Obi-Wan was reminded all over again, why he liked doing this so much, all of the things it made him feel. 

He felt so perfect like this, breathing easily through his nose and swallowing around his master’s cock, fully hard now as his master’s groaned and gripped his hair, stimulated by every tiny movement of Obi-Wan’s throat. With one of his hands Obi-Wan reached up to his neck and stroked over his throat, whimpering when he felt the bulge of his master’s cock there, the vibration making his master groan out his name and start encouraging Obi-Wan to bob his head. 

He almost wanted to be annoyed that his master hadn’t let him warm him for longer, only a couple of minutes with his cock buried in his throat before he was being moved, but it was quickly swept away as Obi-Wan lost himself to the rhythm of sucking his master’s cock more pointedly. 

He bobbed his head, knew his master’s cock so well that he knew exactly how to move his tongue to make the hand in his hair grip him tighter, he knew exactly how to suckle and lick at the head to earn himself a burst of salty precome; he knew exactly how to massage his master’s balls in one of his hands to make his hips shift up into Obi-Wan’s face. He pulled out all of his tricks, surprising himself with how badly he suddenly wanted his master to come, wanted him to fill him everywhere, to soak his mouth face and hole in his come, and he shivered at his own thoughts. 

“So good, pet, so good,” his master praised when he pulled back and suckled on the tip of his cock, stroking his shaft with his hand, his master’s cock too big for his hand to wrap easily around. 

He dropped back down and took his master deep into his throat, choking a little from the speed he had done it but still forcing himself to hold there for a second or two before backing off to breathe and doing it again, his cock throbbing at the feeling of his master’s breathing his throat every time. He moaned in protest, loudly, when the hand in his hair tightened before he could drop down again, and pulled him back off of his cock completely.

“Master!” Obi-Wan whined, knowing that he sounded petulant and discovering that he didn’t care as he licked his lips without thought. 

“No pet, I told you you could have whatever you wanted,” his master said, pulling him up from the floor as he stepped from his perch on the desk, Obi-Wan letting out a whimper when he found himself being bent over the large wooden desk, his master standing close behind him. “And you told me you wanted your tight little hole fucked, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes master, please,” Obi-Wan whined, rolling his hips back against his master’s cock, pressing between his cheeks as Qui-Gon’s large hands rubbed him through his clothes. 

He heard his master rummage briefly in one of his desk drawers until he found the slick, and Obi-Wan felt his arousal flare as his master only pulled his pants down far enough to reveal his ass. He rubbed over the skin of his ass, fully healed and back to it’s usual pale colour, and Obi-Wan moaned when he felt dry fingers stroking over his hole. 

His master teased him with a dry finger, pressing just the tip inside Obi-Wan’s well-trained hole before coming back with we’ll slicked fingers, and pressing two inside of Obi-Wan, making him moan at the sudden fullness; a sensation he craved almost all the time. 

He loved the feeling of his master’s finger inside of him, so much thicker and better than when he tried to do it on his own - not that he was left to his own devices very often, as they were so loath to leave each other’s side. His master’s fingers stretched him so well, knew exactly what Obi-Wan could take, exactly what made him writhe and loosen faster, exactly how to rub his prostate to make Obi-Wan’s little cock drool a mess inside his pants. 

On four of his master’s fingers Obi-Wan was moaning freely, rocking himself back against the feeling, wanting more, wanting it deeper, knowing that if he didn't get his master’s huge cock inside his hole soon then he was going to brat to get it. His master knew, of course, could read him like an open book as he massaged ruthlessly against Obi-Wan’s sweet spot, while the other held the base of his cock in an unyielding grip. 

His master was still so careful when they fucked, he worked Obi-wan’s body like an instrument that only he knew how to play, one that was made especially for him, and when Obi-Wan tried to brat with his words he was hushed, when he tried to do it with his body he was pinned against the desk hard enough to bruise his hips beautifully. 

He whimpered in relief, barely able to register the filth falling from his master’s mouth in panting sentences when he finally felt the press of that thick cock against his stretched hole. They were both almost completely clothed, and it made it feel dirties than when they were completely naked, fucking in his master’s office, so desperate for his master’s cock that neither of them had even had the chance to get changed. 

“Please master, please fuck me,” Obi-Wan begged, a litany falling out of his mouth with no pause until his master finally began to press inside of him, and it was cut off into a loud moan. 

No matter how many times his master fucked him, he was always tight for his cock, taking his body to the very limit as he was stuffed full of his master. He couldn’t fit a hand between his tummy and the desk, but he knew if he could he would be able to feel his master’s cock inside him, if only he pressed down, and the thought alone was enough to make him moan anew, rock back against his master even when the burn of how wide he had been opened had barely subsided. 

His master fucked him hard, slamming Obi-Wan's hips against the desk hard with every thrust, building up dull bruises that was making the untamed pleasure rolling through Obi-Wan all the more intense. His master was so deep inside of him, making space for himself with brutal, overwhelming thrusts that had Obi-Wan on the brink of orgasm so quickly. He forced himself to hold off, sinking into the feeling of his master’s cock fucking in and out of his body, the obscene sounds that were filling up the room, the squeak of the desk as it was pushed along the floor with every hard thrust.

He wanted to live in this moment, but he was still so eager to come as soon as his master was inside of him, and with the friction his leaking cock was getting trapped between his body and the table, the rub of the fabric of his clothes against it, he knew he wasn’t going to last long - he never lasted long with his master’s cock buried in his ass. 

“Master, I’m going to come, please can I come, please, please. You feel so good master, please,” Obi-Wan whined, growing suddenly louder as his master crowded over him more, as teeth bit into his neck, and a hand came down and pulled on his braid, forcing his head back, his neck into an arch. 

“Yes pet, you can come, you’re such a good boy,” his master praised, voice strained to speak with the way he was panting, how hard he was fucking Obi-Wan, the effort of fucking is cock in and out of Obi-Wan’s sloppy hole without so much as a pause.

Obi-Wan came with a broken moan and not a hand to himself, messing his pants with hot come and feeling himself go tight, his master fucking him harder when he did, rolling Obi-Wan from one crest of pleasure into another until he was completely spent and limp. But his master loved him like this, loved his pliant body and held him tighter.

He was like a rag doll under his master’s hands as he fucked into Obi-Wan’s limp body, spasming uncontrollably with overstimulation every time his master ground his cock into his prostate. He made a desperate noise when his master pulled out of him, no idea if he was relieved or disappointed, but knowing that he didn’t like the empty feeling his wrecked hole left. He was distracted from it quickly as his master pushed him to his knees and stroked his cock as he looked down hungrily at Obi-Wan. 

His master was close and through his post-orgasmic, oversensitive haze, Obi-wan realised taht he was going to get the last thing he had wanted as well. He let his eyes drift closed and turned his face up towards his master’s cock as his mouth dropped open, waiting patiently for his master’s come. 

His master groaned above him, and Obi-Wan whimpered as he felt hot come hit his face in thick stripes. He kept his eyes closed until he felt his master pushing his cock at his lips, the last of his come oozing out of the head and Obi-Wan lapped it up greedily. He felt dreamy and content, and couldn’t help but moan as his master knelt down with him on the floor and kissed the come from his face before feeding it back to him in a long, dirty kiss that Obi-Wan was hungry for. 

His master carried him - clinging around Qui-Gon’s neck and waist with his arms and legs - down the corridor and back to their room, where he proceeded to strip them both down and lick Obi-Wan’s hole until they were both hard again, and ready for round two, his master entirely and completely distracted from Xanatos.

They fucked all afternoon, and Obi-Wan remembered with an almost hysterical laugh, when he had thought that anything the jedi could offer him could be a worthy substitute for this; the pleasure and the sheer, unbridled _love_ that he felt with this closeness. His bliss had wrapped himself as his master in a cocoon of light force energy that seemed to be swirling happily in Obi-Wan’s happiness, and he knew that the jedi were wrong. 

Their afterglow was cut short when Qui-Gon received a message on his communicator, informing him that the ship had received a message from the emperor, and he was to play host to the other sith for a few days, while the plan for the mid rim was finalised; the rulers that needed to disappear, those that could be convinced, civil wars that could be stoked on republic planets. 

It made the hair stand up on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. It felt like they had only just removed the wolf in their home, and now they were about to be descended on by an entire pack. He knew that the sith were hardly a pack at all, just as likely to turn on one another as they were any enemy, but his master had told him about the mounting tension between himself and Dooku, about the lesson he had taught Ventress not so long ago, and Opress was Darth Maul’s brother. 

It wasn’t even as simple as a group of untrustworthy people entering their ship; every single one of them was dangerous, and every single one of them had a reason to be baying for Qui-Gon’s blood. 

“Do they really need to be here for this?” Obi-Wan asked as his master pulled his clothes back on, numerous preparations needed before the various sith arrived - most of them were security - and they hadn’t been given much warning. 

“No,” Qui-Gon replied. “Is it Sidious, he’s testing us. We will have to pause the search for Xanatos, this will need my full attention,” he grit out the last part, as if stopping his search for his former apprentice was a personal failing on his part somehow. 

“Testing you for what?”

“I’m not sure yet. Possibly just to see if we’re all immediately going to turn on each other.”

“Surely he doesn’t want that. If he lost more of you the empire would be weakened,” Obi-Wan replied, stepping out of bed and reaching for his own clothes.

“Or perhaps he just thinks it would be consolidated under his own control,” Qui-Gon shook his head, pulling on his boots. “He has no love for Opress or Ventress, but I don’t know what he’s doing with Dooku, my old master is good at what he does - if a little over dramatic. We’re going to need him for the fool war Sidious has planned, but- pet why are you getting dressed?”

“I’m not leaving you alone with them, not when any - or _all_ \- of them could be planning something.”

“They’re not even here yet, we’ve got some time.”

“I want to be familiar with the extra security measures,” Obi-Wan replied, and looked up at the soft expression on his master’s face. “What?”

“I will be fine, pet, you don’t have to subject yourself to a hoard of people you hate on my behalf.”

“No, you look out for me, and I look out for you. Wouldn’t you feel better knowing that there is at least one person in that room who will watch your back?”

“I would, yes,” his master replied, voice quietly honest.”

“We’re in this together,” Obi-Wan said, stepping forwards and getting up on his tiptoes, arms around his master’s nec and pulling him down into a long kiss. 

Qui-Gon’s arms came around him, held him close as they kissed, and their bond seemed to light up between them, Obi-Wan almost thinking he could feel the intangible ropes of their bond thickening and strengthening, more threads being added all the time. 

There was something innately calming about their bond. At first, he had thought it was simply the effect of a bond - any bond - to feel that close to another living being. But he understood it better now, their bond was strong and fierce, but that utter peace that it brought with it was something else entirely; it was pure balance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is more horniness and way more sith in the next chapter, so i'm going to call that a mixed bag that will arrive probably wednesday <3 thank you all again for being so sweet to me


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies, your comments are the light of my life, thank you so much they keep me going when I am sad (◠‿◠✿) we're in the home stretch now, weird to think that this monster fic will probably be done within a week!
> 
> Warnings: lite somno, warning for The Sith in general

“It’s my birthday, tomorrow,” Obi-Wan said. His padawan’s head was pillowed in his lap while Qui-Gon read through reports - no one imagined that being a sith lord involved so many boring reports - but he put them down to turn his attention more fully to Obi-Wan.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would have planned something,” Qui-Gon said, already running his mind through the various things he could have planned on such short notice; most things that would be physically able to reach Oleserra by tomorrow, he was never told to wait his turn when he wanted something.

Gifts that he could - would - get him started racing through his mind, how to get all of Obi-Wan’s favourite foods (the few that weren’t kept in strong supply that the fortress already) here, new ones he could try. He thought of new outfits, jewels, entertainers he could bring down, flimsi books Obi-Wan had a fondness for. 

“I hadn’t really remembered until just now. I’ve never celebrated it.”

“Would you like to?” Qui-Gon asked, his fingers working over Obi-Wan’s braid to fix where it was coming loose from the way his padawan had been lounging around in bed.

“I think so? But just with you, maybe I could have a cake,” Obi-Wan laughed, as if this was a silly thing to want, pretending that he wasn’t serious, even though Qui-Gon could sense the thread of real want running under his words.

“You can have anything you want, though some of the more decadent gifts that I want to get you may arrive a little late,” Qui-Gon replied, tying off the end of the braid neatly and stroking over his handiwork of beads and plaits, reverent of the lock of his own hair that also resided there. 

“You don’t have to do that, you get me gifts all the time,” Obi-Wan replied, a pink blush rising on his cheeks, as it often did when Qui-Gon turned his attention to pampering him in the way he deserved. 

“Precisely, I get you gifts all the time, so for your birthday there must be something special about them,” he teased as Obi-Wan rolled onto his back so that he could accept the kisses Qui-Gon had begun dropping to his hair with his lips instead. 

“You really don’t have to do anything,” Obi-Wan mumbled between their kisses, but Qui-Gon knew him well, and if Obi-Wan had brought it up it was because he wanted to mark it somehow, in a way he had never be able to or wanted to before. 

“No, but I want to,” Qui-Gon assured, kissing him again. The window was open and a light breeze blew into their room, making Obi-Wan shiver, but they both enjoyed the smell of the fresh outside world, after so much recycled air. 

They had landed the ship in Olserra, they had been in space for a long time and Obi-Wan was always glad when they returned to the luscious planet, even if this time they had a ship full of sith in tow. 

The first few days with the sith on the Deimos had been almost unbearably tense, Qui-Gon having to spend more time in meditation than he had in years, to stop himself from lashing out as the atmosphere festered, and the other sith made getting any of the work Sidious expected of them done impossible. 

There was open hostility from Ventress; newly brackish, combative words spouting from Dooku, as if agreeing with Qui-Gon even once, even when he was clearly right, would simply cost him too much to do; and the unnerving and total silence from Savage Opress.

Obi-Wan had stood stoically by his side, his lightsaber on full view and had ignored the sneers that were sent to him by Ventress and Dooku. Opress didn’t sneer at the weapon, just watched him with an unblinking stare, and Qui-Gon was fairly sure they would have both preferred a sneer.

He would kill Opress before he let him anywhere near Obi-Wan, he would not allow these parasites to compromise his safety. Qui-Gon had no idea how much affection there had been between the brothers, didn’t particularly care if Opress’ behaviour was born from love of a lost brother, or simply the principal of being forced to sit in the same room as his brother’s killer. 

Qui-Gon was glad that Ventress and Dooku’s aggression was aimed at him, rather than his apprentice, although they learned within their first hours on the Deimos, that Obi-Wan Kenobi now bit back, and they could not get away with slighting him with their words so easily anymore. 

He didn’t sleep that first night, hadn’t let Obi-Wan out of his sight for the entire day, unsure which of the three he thought was more likely to be the one to strike. He thought that he understood how Sidious was testing him; could he make the other sith listen to him, make them obey even though they hated him. He wasn’t sure if it was riskier for him to pass or fail this test. Being Sidious’ second had its perks, but if the festering old sith thought for a moment that Qui-Gon might look to replace him, he would be in far more danger than the other three sith could pose combined.

Dooku argued with him over everything to an exhaustive degree. For every sound plan Qui-Gon had for one of the mid-rim worlds, his old master had a different one, less refined, less subtle. A plan that would probably work, but had more risks and would cost needless lives. Ventress sided with Dooku every time, purely out of spite, and Qui-Gon would calmly remind them that the sith were not a democracy, and the emperor would accept the best plan, not the one with the most petty votes.

It had done nothing to relieve the dark environment, if anything it had made it worse, but Qui-Gon was growing frustrated himself by the lack of progress, and were it not for Obi-Wan’s calming presence beside him, he could’ve snapped, and slaughtered all three of them. 

When they were not working, the other sith had been slinking around his ship - around his space, his home - interfering with his crew and trying to pry into affairs that were not their concern. There was only four of them, but they seemed to be everywhere all at once, and he felt unable to get away from them unless he and Obi-Wan were inside their room. 

It had made the vast ship feel too small, claustrophobic and unsafe; so Qui-Gon had made the decision to land. The security was better at the compound in Oleserra, and with the open world available to them, it relieved some of the tension that was inexorably growing between the four sith. 

He was at least fairly sure by the end of the fourth day, that none of them were actually going to try anything. They were scared of him, they were scared of his value to the emperor, and it stopped them from doing more than being abrasive and antagonistic, at least for now. He was all too aware that Ventress in particular seemed only a few seconds away from doing something remarkably stupid at any given moment. 

“It’ll be the summer festival soon,” Obi-Wan said, sitting up to look out the window, the trees alive with a mix of colours in the gentle summer sun. Obi-Wan kept far better track of the various holidays and local traditions of Oleserra than Qui-Gon ever had, no doubt because he enjoyed going to them, and Qui-Gon found that he enjoyed them too, when he had Obi-Wan beside him.

Oleserra was a beautiful planet, and there was a reason beyond its conveniently remote location why he had decided to make it his base. It was brimming with the living force, and exploring what it had to offer with Obi-Wan they had discovered a secluded pond a few miles out from the town, a beautiful grove shrouded in trees, and Qui-Gon wondered if Obi-Wan would like to go back there tomorrow evening, just the two of them, to get some space from the other sith and celebrate his birthday.

“I will make sure we are here for at least some of it,” Qui-Gon replied, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s soft cheek before forcing himself out of bed. They had been having a lazy morning that he couldn’t strictly afford to take with the sith sniffing around, but one that he had also sorely needed for his own sanity. Sadly he had to admit that it was time to get up, and return to the infuriating talks with Dooku, Ventress and Opress.

“You don’t have to do that either,” Obi-Wan replied, looking for his own clothes, but he was smiling that smile that said ‘yes please master, thank you’ loud and clear. 

“Oh it’s an entirely selfish promise, pet. I happen to know about the traditional Oleserran dress for that particular festival. Not to mention that I think you’re going to look particularly beautiful with flowers in your hair,” Qui-Gon replied, and he laughed as a look of alarm crossed over Obi-Wan’s face. 

“Wait, what traditional dress?” Obi-Wan asked, scampering after Qui-Gon, still doing up the various fastenings of his shirt and hopping into his shoes as he chasedQui-Gon out of their room. 

“You’ll find out in a few weeks, won't you pet,” he teased, stopping and finishing doing up Obi-Wan’s clothes and hooking his lightsaber to his belt. Usually he would have found it amusing to watch Obi-Wan still trying to do up his clothes as he chased him down the corridor, but he could feel a dark presence coming down the hallway, and had no desire for any of them to be able to set their eyes on what was not theirs. 

“Not fair,” Obi-Wan grumbled, but Qui-Gon was already thinking about contacting the seamstress that lived down in the town and commissioning a special piece from her for Obi-Wan, she would probably already be busy making things for the festival, but he would make her an offer she couldn’t refuse, he would accept nothing but the best for Obi-Wan. 

A few meters away, Dooku turned the corner and came into view, scowling derisively at what he saw as Qui-Gon smoothed down the creases in Obi-Wan’s shirt.

“Count,” Qui-Gon greeted placidly, folding his arms in front of his chest as his old master approached. They stood at eye level to one another, two imposing figures too used to looking down - quite literally - on the people they were speaking with. 

“Avarus. We’ve been summoned, which you would know if you weren’t so distracted,” Dooku said, looking down his long, thin nose at Obi-Wan. 

In truth, Qui-Gon had many fond memories from being the man’s apprentice, he was a skilled jedi and a formidable sith, and Qui-Gon had been very fond of him as a young man. But the more he sneered at Obi-Wan the more that memory blurred, and in its place all he saw were his master’s deficiencies, no longer hidden behind fondness. 

Dooku appeared to be fetching them, walking back to Qui-Gon’s meeting room with them, but Qui-Gon was suspicious of it. The Dooku he knew would never stoop to the task of being the messenger, which meant that he had more likely been snooping around the compound for something, and had made up a simple excuse for what he was doing so close to their private quarters, wing of the compound which permitted limited staff and crew, when he encountered them in the hallway. 

Qui-Gon would inspect the security footage later to see if he could discern what Dooku had really been looking for, but for now, it seemed that the emperor really had summoned all of his sith to the same palace. Obi-Wan stood close to him as they entered the room filled with sith, whether to cover Qui-Gon’s back, because he felt uncomfortable in such a room, or because of both, Qui-Gon wasn’t entirely sure. 

“Your pet has not been invited,” Ventress said, her voice tight with derision, Qui-Gon made sure he could see his open disdain for her presence on his base. 

“I’d suggest you do not speak on matters that you know nothing of, Ventress, but then you would never be able to speak at all, would you?” Qui-Gon replied, taking a seat at the head of the table, as Obi-Wan sat down beside him, straight-backed but otherwise looking relaxed, though Qui-Gon could feel his tension through their bond. Ventress snarled at him and Qui-Gon ignored her.

“Darth Sidious has assessed Kenobi’s skills and expects him to replace Darth Maul in our operation when his training is complete. He is as welcome in this room as any of us now,” he then explained nonchalantly as he scrolled through a data report that contained a possible sighting of Xanatos - something which had had to be put mostly on hold, much to his anger, when the sith had arrived at his ship. The lead was useless, like the rest of them had been, the grainy picture looked nothing like the cockroach that had escaped his ship. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Opress for his reaction, hoping to be able to get some kind of gauge of what Maul’s brother was thinking, how compromised he was by the death of his brother, and the fact that his killer was going to assume his place and face no punishment. Maul had gotten exactly what he deserved, but that didn’t mean his brother would think so. But the zabrak just remained as silent as he had from the moment he stepped on the ship, his face unnervingly still. 

Dooku looked as though he had a comment on the tip of his tongue, but to speak against Obi-Wan’s presence in the room now was to directly oppose a decision from the emperor, and he was far too cowardly for that, and a strained silence fell over the room. It was almost a relief when the flicking blue hologram of Sidious appeared from the projector on the table. 

“There is a new addition to your ranks,” Sidious said without worrying about pleasantries. Qui-Gon assumed he was talking about Obi-Wan and was careful not to show his visible surprise when that was not the case; the more the others believed he was privy to the emperor’s plans when they were not, the better. “A kaleesh. He is not a sith, but he has made a sport out of hunting jedi. He will be joining you on Oleserra in a few hours.”

“He isn’t a sith?” Ventress said, disgusted and as if she was deaf, and she slunk back in her chair when Sidious looked at her with a sharp glare.

“He has been cybernetically enhanced and would certainly prove to be a match for you,” Sidious replied in his reedy vice, filled with cruel amusement. “You will inform him of the plans regarding the mid-rim. He will serve under Darth Avarus, and you will assess his abilities.” Sidious continued, and the flare of ire from Dooku as Qui-Gon was entrusted in a task that would have doubtless once been his was palpable in the room. 

“Will he need constant supervision?” Qui-Gon asked, ignoring Dooku. He would rather the task had been given to his old master, he had no desire to be in charge of what was no doubt under instruction to watch him, and report back to the emperor. 

“No. Send him off on missions, hunting jedi and commanding battles, see how successful he can be. For now I want his association with the empire to remain unknown,” Sidious replied, and Qui-Gon Was glad at least that he wouldn’t be sniffing around his ship constantly. 

“Yes my lord,” Qui-Gon replied. 

“The rest of you, leave,” Sidious then ordered. “I have some matters that concern only Darth Avarus.” Sidious dismissed everyone else in the room, and the rigidity that Dooku moved with told him everything his carefully impassive face refused to, as Sidious no doubt deliberately stoked the tension between them all.

Qui-Gon controlled his concern at Obi-Wan existing the meeting room at the same time as the other sith, especially Opress, although right now, he didn’t trust any of them. As much as he was growing to disdain his old master, Dooku knew him well enough to know that there was real affection between himself and Obi-Wan, and he wouldn’t put it past the other man to try and use that somehow. And Ventress was still seething, she was always seething. 

_ Watch your back, pet _ he sent down their bond, even though he was sure Obi-Wan already knew to be. His padawan was clever. 

_ I will be, master _ Obi-Wan sent back, leaving their bond as open as it could be, to reassure Qui-Gon with the constant touch of his soul; he would know immediately if something was wrong. 

He didn’t know what happened when the door shut, but he felt nothing out of place through their bond, except perhaps a little annoyance and disgust, but that was to be expected even if the other sith were merely speaking with him. 

“My lord?” Qui-Gon said when they were alone. 

“Grievous will be an asset in our plans for the future, when he has proved himself I want him stationed on Kamino. There will not be another incident with visiting jedi,” Sidious explained, confirming to Qui-Gon that the operation on Kamino was being taken from Dooku, and given to him. He nodded carefully, he had some ideas about how to make Kamino disappear. 

Opress and Ventress didn’t know about the clones being bred, and Sidious clearly intended to keep it that way, but Qui-Gon wondered if Dooku had been told yet that the plan was no longer his to oversee. He doubted it, Dooku wouldn’t have been able to resist confronting him over it, Kamino and the clones was his crowning idea for so long, and now it had been taken from him. He did not look forward to the headache he was going to have to endure when Dooku was told.

“I will ensure it, my lord,” Qui-Gon replied, bowing his head slightly in deference. 

“When our plans are put in motion you will be my second in command. I expect the other sith to understand and obey. You will communicate this to them,” Sidious’ deliberately straine voice was grating, deliberately making Qui-Gon’s life difficult for him, but he carefully controlled his anger. 

“Yes, my lord,” Qui-Gon said, knowing there was little point in suggesting the emperor do this himself, as it was sure to be better received from him. Qui-Gon was being tested, to see if he was worthy of being Sidious’ second in command. 

It wasn’t a position he wanted, he preferred to be left alone to his ever-growing branch of the empire, without Sidious’ needless interference. And he had no interest in a war when the same outcome could be achieved by simpler, and less deadly means, but he had little choice in the matter for now. 

Sidious cut the transmission and Qui-Gon stayed in the room for almost half an hour more. Obi-Wan was not in distress and he decided he would let the others think that there was much he and Sidious had to discuss that was kept from them all. It would hopefully also help to dissuade them from any foolish actions as the atmosphere in the compound began to bubble. 

All of this was a distraction from what he really wanted to be doing: hunting down Xanatos. And the sooner he could get the sith off of Oleserra and back to whatever holes they’d crawled out of, the better.

He had planned to avoid the sith for the hour or so before this Grievous arrived, but he was unable to when he was intercepted quickly as he exited by Obi-Wan, Dooku behind him looking pissed off, and informed him down their bond that he had found Dooku heading to the private wing of their base again. 

His old master did not take kindly to being reminded of where he was and was not allowed on his base, and Qui-Gon was forced into an argument masquerading as a conversation about Dooku’s place in this compound, and how badly he was overestimating it. 

He escorted Dooku down to the hangar when grievous’ ship landed while the older sith seethed beside him, but he had at least stopped lecturing Qui-Gon on his seniority after a sharp rebuke from Qui-Gon. He would inform him properly of the new order of things that evening, when they had finished discussions about the mid-rim for the day. 

Whatever any of them had been expecting from Grievous, it was not the thing that stepped off of the ship. Part kaleesh, but more machine, the bits of skin Qui-Gon could see through the droid carapace were ruined, and a hacking cough accompanied its speech. Qui-Gon wondered if Sidious had had this menacing warlord attacked on his own orders, so that he could then swoop in, a benevolent saviour, and entrap him in this case, turning him into his personal weapon. 

He was a disgusting thing, but it only took a few moments of speaking with him about the mid-rim, for Qui-Gon to understand that this creature was a formidable tactician before he was anything else. He didn't appreciate being commanded, but Qui-Gon intended to send him off with a ship, some men and a target, and let him succeed or fail by himself, watching from afar anyway, which seemed to suit them both. 

And Grievous had no loyalties in that room of sith, and backed Qui-Gon’s plans as the most sound as Dooku’s jaw flexed tellingly. 

Grievous let out a grating, wheezing laugh when at the end of the day Qui-Gon informed the other sith of the new order and Ventress and Dooku immediately shot to their feet, their anger beginning to boil over. Qui-Gon did not tolerate their arguments this time, slamming out with a consuming wave of dark energy, reminding them of what they all knew about who was the most powerful in this room, forcing them back down into their seats and letting his voice boom as he threatened them, asked them if they would like to go against the emperor himself by acting against him. 

_ Do not leave my side, this evening _ he sent down their bond as Dooku and Ventress both slammed their way out of the room. Opress still hadn’t said a word, hadn’t left the room, but he was watching Obi-Wan closely, and for all of his outward placidity, Qui-Gon could now easily feel how tumultuous he was in the force, it had been growing steadily throughout his stay. 

“I look forward to our partnership,” Grievous said, gleeful by the conflict between the sith, his metal joints creaking as he stalked his way out of the room. 

Exiting the room with Obi-Wan close beside him, Qui-Gon went to the operations wing, and made sure his people were monitoring the other sith constantly, he wanted to know where they all were at all times. He also oversaw hasty additions to the security of his personal wing, tightening up everything and doubling the guard to try and dissuade Dooku from attempting to enter again.

By the time he and Obi-Wan got back to their room it was late and they enjoyed an indulgent dinner in bed to try and unwind from the day, before collapsing into the sheets together, exhausted. But Qui-Gon could feel the stress bleeding away as he held Obi-Wan safely in his arms, additional biometric locks having been placed on their room, and was thinking now about how he could make the next day special for his pet, even if he was having to spend most of it dealing with the sith.

He was thankful that his pet was such a deep sleeper, and almost always the second to wake between them these days, because Qui-Gon had some ideas for the morning, and how he would like his pet’s birthday to start. 

Sure enough, when Qui-Gon woke the next morning to find Obi-Wan still snoring sweetly beside him, and he smiled to himself. His pet was beautiful like this, soft and sweet with sleep, his pink lips slightly open as he snored, his eyes closed, lashes fanned out prettily. He was curling into Qui-Gon’s warmth as he did every night, his braid strewn over his neck, just touching his clavicle, and his limbs were adorably akimbo in the bed, his padawan finding the strangest positions comfortable some nights.

Qui-gon propped himself up on an arm and smiled down at Obi-Wan’s sleeping form, leaning down to drop kisses on Obi-Wan’s warm skin, pushing the bedding down until he was exposed. Qui-Gon continued to press kisses to Obi-Wan’s skin, his neck and chest before swirling his tongue around Obi-Wan’s pink nipples, feeling arousal growing within him as Obi-Wan’s sleeping body was quick to react, his cock filling until it was standing up and beginning to leak, from no more than having his nipples played with. 

Obi-Wan made a snuffling noise so Qui-Gon gently pressed a force suggestion into his mind to stay asleep, and Obi-Wan settled back down easily, even as his hips started rocking into the air, seeking friction on his cock and whimpering sleepily when he found none. Qui-Gon continued licking and nipping at Obi-Wan’s nipples until they were both rosy red and his own cock was hard and thick against his thigh. 

He loved how desperate he could get Obi-Wan, just from playing with his nipples, tugging them between his teeth as Obi-Wan’s cock started to drool precome onto his belly in an enticing pool that had Qui-Gon kissed his way down Obi-Wan’s abdomen and licking up from his skin. 

When he licked a stripe up Obi-Wan’s little cock it jerked and Obi-Wan fidgeted and moaned sleepily, his hands grabbing onto the sheets and his previous smooth sleeping face creasing with sensation. He wrapped his lips around the head of Obi-Wan’s hard cock and slipped down his length, easily taking all of him into his mouth and starting to suck his cock with a little more purpose, letting the force suggestion to sleep slip away, counting the second before Obi-Wan woke up, the way he started to shift, Qui-Gon having to hold his hips down now.

“ _ AhI!  _ Master!” Obi-Wan whined into wakefulness, body seizing on the bed as Qui-Gon sucked him down again before pulling off Obi-Wan’s cock with a wet pop and stroking him more languidly. 

“Good morning pet. Are you enjoying your birthday so far?” He teased, kissing at the base of Obi-Wan’s sweet little cock before drawing Obi-Wan’s soft sac into his mouth and massaging it with his tongue, humming with amusement as Obi-Wan whined and writhed.

“Master, please!” He panted, almost incoherent already, he had been so worked up already, while Qui-Gon kept him asleep. 

“Please what, pet?” He asked, running his tongue over the wet tip of Obi-Wan’s cock, enjoying the salty taste of his precome as he pinned down Obi-wan’s hips with firm hands. He knew his pet had no idea what he was asking for, never did when he got like this, the only words that managed to fall past his lips when he was desperate were ‘ _ master _ ’ and ‘ _ please _ ’.

“Please!” Obi-Wan whined again, and Qui-Gon laughed lowly and started sucking on Obi-wan’s cock with more intent, please when Obi-Wan’s delicate hands sunk into his hair, hanging loose over his shoulders.. 

It never took long when he put his mouth on his pet, and now was no different. If he hadn’t had such an iron grip on Obi-Wan’s hips then he would have been fucking up into his mouth uncontrollably. 

He liked the taste of his padawan as it gathered on his tongue, salty but with a distinctly sweetened edge. Qui-Gon fed him a number of foods specifically so that he tasted as sweet as he did, watching his padawan hungrily as he ate those very sweet fruits right from his fingers every morning.

He took Obi-wan deep, sucked the entire length of his cock in a slow, hard drag that made Obi-Wan keen and writhe under his attention. He laved his tongue at the sensitive vein that ran along Obi-Wan’s shaft and started sucking on the head of his cock, massaging his tongue over the sensitive head and encompassing the length of Obi-Wan’s little cock. 

Obi-wan’s body began to tense as Qui-Gon stroked him and sucked on the head of his cock, his hands tightening in Qui-Gon’s hair as his muscles began to draw in, a sure sign that his pet was about to come, unable to do anything to stop himself as Qui-Gon drove him forwards, holding his hips down with the force as he took him deeper and toyed with his sac with his free hand.

Obi-Wan came with a loud cry, filling Qui-Gon’s mouth with spurts of his sweet come and whimpering as Qui-Gon swallowed around him and continued to work Obi-Wan through each and every tremor of his orgasm. When Obi-Wan was lying limp in the bedding, whimpering with over sensitivity and his cock was soft again, Qui-Gon pulled up, kissing his way back up Obi-Wan’s pliant body until he reached his lips. 

“Kiss me,” Obi-Wan whined when Qui-Gon just hovered above him, brushing their lips and noses together as he breathed in Obi-Wan in any way he could, ignoring the way his cock was heavy and wanting between his legs; today was about Obi-Wan. 

He did as he was asked with a chuckle, leaning down that tiny amount further and pressing his lips against Obi-Wan’s, loving how easily Obi-Wan opened against him, his mouth falling open to deepen the kiss and his legs spreading as his hands came around Qui-Gon’s shoulders and pulled him into the space he had made, Qui-Gon going easily. 

Obi-Wan sighed as he was kissed thoroughly, Qui-Gon crowding over him, caging him down against the bedding, feeling his cock throb as Obi-Wan’s legs came up around his waist and tugged him closer, until his hard cock was pressing against Obi-Wan’s own soft, spent cock. Obi-Wan’s whimper turned into a moan when he felt him, one of his hands leaving Qui-Gon’s shoulder to burrow between them and stroke his cock, making Qui-Gon groan into their kiss. 

Obi-Wan’s hand was perfect around me, he loved the way he couldn’t entirely hold his thick cock in just one hand, made his pet seem even smaller and lovelier beneath him as his fingers failed to meet around the girth. Obi-Wan knew exactly how to stroke him now, though he was uncoordinated from his orgasm, his movements sloppy and somehow making Qui-Gon even more aroused, pleasure ripping through him at every sweet stroke of Obi-Wan’s hand.

“Master,” Obi-wan mumbled, without intent, no sentence to follow as he smiled into their kisses, made content little noises every time Qui-Gon pressed his tongue inside of Obi-Wan’s hot mouth. 

“I am going to make you come so many times today, pet,” he promised, dropping hisses to Obi-Wan’s jaw and neck. “I’m going to make you come twice more before I let you out of bed, and then throughout the day I’m going to make you come whenever you want. You’re a needy little thing, I know how much you like it, how embarrassed you get about how much you want it, how often,” he teased, sucking a bruise into Obi-Wan’s pale neck, to replace the ones that had faded. 

“W-what if you’re in a meeting?” Obi-Wan asked, voice trembling as Qui-Gon bit fresh marks into his skin and wrapped a hand around Obi-Wan’s soft cock, stroking him gently to coax him back into hardness. 

“Then I’ll leave. Whenever you want it pet, all you have to do is tell me. I’ll make my excuses and I’ll take you somewhere private, and I’ll make sure you’re satisfied,” he murmured, glad when he could feel Obi-Wan’s cock thickening again as he spoke and thumbed at the head. “Does that sound nice?”

“Y-yes master,” he squeaked, hips starting to rut into Qui-Gon’s hand. 

“Good boy,” he praised before biting another mark into the pale skin of Obi-Wan’s throat and leaning back. “Roll over for me, pet. I want to kiss that pretty hole of yours.”

Obi-Wan moaned and quickly did as he was asked, moving his knees forward and lifting his ass up he was so eager, and Qui-Gon gripped his plump cheeks in his hands and spread him open, enjoying the sight of Obi-Wan’s tiny hole, knowing how beautifully, how easily it stretched around his cock nowadays. Qui-Gon settled behind him, massaging Obi-Wan’s cheeks as he ducked forwards and licked a wet stripe over Obi-Wan’s hole, making his pet whine loudly and wiggle his ass backwards in a plea for more. 

He gave Obi-Wan what he wanted easily, pushing the tip of his tongue inside Obi-Wan’s hole and working himself deeper until his beard was scratching against Obi-Wan’s skin and his face was buried in Obi-Wan’s ass. Obi-Wan cried out as Qui-Gon worked him open on his tongue, licking in and out of Obi-Wan’s hole, pushing at his rim until the muscle was wet and yielding to him, his entrance beginning to flutter around Qui-Gon’s tongue as he opened easily. 

He alternated between fucking his tongue in and out of Obi-Wan’s sweet little hole and pressing open mouthed kisses at his rim until Obi-Wan was panting heavily, rocking back against Qui-gon’s face and reminding him of how embarrassed Obi-Wan had been, just a fortnight ago, when Qui-Gon had coaxed him into sitting on his face for the first time. 

Sensing his pet’s growing desperation, Qui-Gon sucked on one of his own fingers before pushing it inside of Obi-Wan alongside his tongue, beginning to work Obi-Wan open in earnest as he stretched his pet with his finger. 

“M-master, master please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, his hips moving back to frantically Qui-Gon was holding still and letting his pet do whatever he wanted, find stimulation however he preferred. 

“Yes pet?” He asked, pulling back far enough to speak and kissing at Obi-Wan’s wet rim as his spit-slick finger moved in and out of him. 

“More,” Obi-Wan moaned, and Qui-Gon kicked, kissing the small of his back as he used the force to draw the slick to him, coating his fingers and pressing back inside of Obi-Wan’s hole with two, his padawan crying out happily at the stretch. 

Qui-Gon sought out his prostate, his pet always so responsive to having it stimulated - and sure enough when Qui-Gon pressed against it with the pads of his fingers, Obi-Wan burrowed his head into the pillow and let out a wanton moan, slightly muffled by the pillow. He reached for Obi-Wan’s hard cock with his other hand, chuckling lowly when he found Obi-Wan’s cock practically dripping and straining hard against his belly. 

“Oh pet, do you want to come already?”

“Yes master, please,” Obi-Wan panted, his body not knowing if he wanted to rock forward into Qui-Gon’s hand around his cock, or back into the two fingers massaging his sweet spot. 

“You’re so needy, aren’t you pet? You like having your little hole played with so much, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, master,” Obi-Wan whimpered, his voice starting to get lost in his moans.

“You’re so perfect like this pet, your cock wet and leaking as I finger your greedy hole. You always like to be filled, don’t you, pet?” 

“Y-yes master, m-master please, please I want to come, don’t make me wait,” Obi-Wan pleaded, and Qui-Gon hummed and dropped a kiss at the back of his neck. 

“Such a good boy,” Qui-Gon murmured, pressing a third finger inside of Obi-Wan, making his padawan moan wildly around the wider stretch, the extra pressure against his prostate, and as Qui-Gon squeezed his cock a tighter and stoked him, Obi-Wan’s moan turned into a wail and he came a second time, making Qui-Gon’s own cock throb as pleasure roared down their bond and Obi-Wan’s ass tightened around is fingers. 

“Oh pet,” Qui-Gon cooed, watching as Obi-Wan shook beneath him and around his fingers as Qui-Gon stroked his cock until the last drops of come were milked from him, dribbling out the head and dripping over Qui-Gon’s fingers. “So good.”

“Master,” Obi-Wan whined, breath hitched as he collapsed forward into the bedding, body shaking as Qui-Gon continued to work his three fingers inside of his hole. 

He gentled his fingers as Obi-Wan became hypersensitive, avoiding his prostate for a little while as Obi-Wan’s body shivered. He continued to stretch his hole, petting the small of Obi-Wan’s back, knowing how much he liked feeling overstimulated like this, every mewl and shake a plea for more, being able to feel through their bond just how much his padawan liked to tread this line. 

He pressed a fourth finger inside Obi-Wan’s sensitive body and started more leisurely stretching his pet’s body wide, getting him ready to take Qui-Gon’s hard cock, aching with desire to bury himself inside of Obi-Wan. 

“M-master,” Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, voice both sated and desperate as Qui-Gon’s fingers continued moving inside of him and Qui-Gon felt himself groan low in his throat when Obi-Wan clumsily reached backwards and stroked at the head of his cock before trying to press it against his hole, still stuffed with Qui-Gon’s fingers. 

“Not yet, pet,” Qui-Gon replied, his pet still a little tighter than he liked, so that he could fuck him deep and hard like they both liked, without having to worry about hurting his small body. 

“Please, want you,” Obi-Wan mumbled, and Qui-Gon hushed him, refused to be rushed as he fingered Obi-Wan open, stretching his hole around his four fingers and spreading him open. 

Obi-wan moaned and begged tiredly through it until Qui-Gon was finally satisfied and pulled his fingers free, leaving Obi-Wan wet and loose, whining at the sudden empty feeling. 

“Shh pet. Don’t worry, I’m going to fill you up, just the way you like. I’m going to fuck you like this, mount you the way I  _ know _ you crave,” he murmured, watching the red blush filling up Obi-Wan’s cheeks and spread over his skin. “I can get so deep like this, can’t I, take you so well.”

“Yes, yes master please, please!” Obi-Wan begged, whining needily as Qui-Gon slicked his cock and pressed the fat head against Obi-Wan’s stretched hole.

Obi-Wan wailed as he pushed inside, stretching Obi-Wan’s hole even more as he pushed the tip of his cock inside of his padawan’s greedy body. Obi-Wan tried to push back against him to take more, but Qui-Gon held his hips and pulled him up onto his knees, Obi-Wan moaning as he was manhandled where Qui-Gon wanted him. 

He pulled back what little he could and then fucked back inside Obi-Wan pushing in a bit deeper every time, fucking his way inside Obi-Wan’s body as he forced him open around his cock, Obi-Wan wailing freely beneath him ith every thrust. By the time he was buried fully in Obi-Wan’s body, still marvelling after all this time over how someone so slight could take him so well, his cock was throbbing with need and Obi-Wan was hard again, begging incoherently. 

Obi-Wan’s perfect body was squeezing his cock in a tight grip, making him feel out of control with lust from how long he had made himself wait, and both their pleasure was coursing through their bond, mixing and amplifying one another in an endless loop of want and desire. With a tight grip, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan’s hips back towards him and thrust forward, fucked deeply into his body and made him shout with pleasure as he started up a brutal pace. 

He fucked Obi-Wan hard and deep, just like he promised, holding Obi-Wan tight and feeling spurred on as every time he buried himself deep in his hole a hitched moan was forced out from his pet’s lips. 

“Master! M-master, please!” Obi-Wan wailed when Qui-Gon stopped his hands from reaching for his dripping cock, holding them in a tight grip at the base of Obi-Wan’s spine with one of his own large hands. 

“Oh pet, does that greedy cock of yours need some attention?” He purred, fucking Obi-Wan in slow, hard thrusts of his hips as he spoke, each one pushing a hitched breath out of Obi-Wan’s slack lips.

“Yes, p-please master,” he begged, trying to tug his hands free from the hold Qui-Gon had on them, but he didn’t let them escape, instead he reached for a pair of pillows and pushed them between Obi-Wan’s legs, getting him to spread his knees more to be lower on the bed and able to rub his cock against the fabric. 

“There pet, is that better?” Qui-Gon teased, grinding into Obi-Wan to help him rut down into the pillows and he moaned, an embarrassed flush back to his cheeks. “You always liked doing this, didn’t you, sweet one. Rubbing your little cock against my pillow until you come.”

Obi-Wan tried to speak, but his words were garbled and engulfed in a moan as Qui-Gon returned to fucking him hard, building his pace back up and pushing Obi-Wan’s hips down into the pillow with every thrust. Obi-Wan was wailing under him, crying out with every thrust of his hips, adn Qui-Gon could feel his pet’s orgasm building through their bond, his own following closely behind as an overwhelming crescendo of pleasure mounted between them. 

“Yes, that’s it pet, you take my cock so well, so well pet. So perfect for me,” Qui-Gon growled, holding Obi-Wan’s hands with one hand, the other reaching out and tingling in his hair and braid and pulling sharply, Obi-Wan’s head going backwards with a loud moan, his hips stuttering as his hole tightening as he split himself against the pillow, his third orgasm ripping through him, both weaker and more intense than the two before it. 

Qui-Gon groaned throatily, fucking into his pet’s tightening hole once, twice more before his orgasm was ripped from him, filling Obi-Wan’s hole in thick, heavy spurts of come. He fucked them both through it, rolling his hips and pushing his slowly softening cock in and out of Obi-Wan’s hole until they were both completely spent, and he pulled out gently. 

Not quite done with his pet, Qui-Gon rolled Obi-Wan onto his back and settled between his legs again, licking up the come that was dripping out of his hole, gathering his own spend on his tongue and cleaning Obi-Wan up before moving up his body and kissing him deeply, making his pet moan as Qui-Gon fed him his come, Obi-Wan greedily licking it from his mouth. 

They collapsed together after that, the morning sun streaming into the room and Obi-Wan throwing an arm and leg over Qui-Gon, pillowing his head on his broad chest while QUi-Gon toyed with his braid. He needed to re-tie it, having gotten a little messy from the way Qui-Gon had pulled it. 

“Well,” Obi-Wan sighed after a few long minutes passed, Qui-Gon’s fingers busy re-braiding his hair. “This is already the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Hmm, happy birthday pet,” Qui-Gon smiled, helping Obi-Wan to sit up and receive a kiss. 

“Can I expect this every year?” Obi-Wan cheeked, as if they didn’t both know he could have this every day, if he wanted. 

“Greedy,” Qui-Gon teased, and Obi-Wan filled their bond with love as he heard  _ ‘yes pet, of course’ _ loud and clear. 

Qui-Gon made good on his promise throughout the day, leaving a meeting that morning to fuck his pet in the nearest room with a lock, letting him settle between his legs and warm his cock in the free hour he found to do some work in his office, and taking their lunch alone in their room, giving him time to fuck his Obi-Wan deep and slow. 

Obi-Wan had a content, blissful expression on his face as Qui-Gon helped him back into his clothes, his pet blushing at the way his spend was still dripping from his hole. 

“The market should be open today,” Obi-Wan said, checking the calendar on his side of the bed. “Do you think we can make it after you’ve finished for today?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t want to miss it,” Obi-Wan admitted, looking hopefully out the window. “It’s been so long.”

“I know you love the market, Obi-Wan, you can go,” Qui-Gon said, tugging playfully at Obi-Wan’s braid. It gave him an idea for one of his gifts for Obi-Wan’s birthday. “It will take me a few hours to finish business here, you could go and I will join you as soon as I’m done, and then perhaps we can go to the pond, and celebrate your birthday with a little more peace.”

“That sounds nice,” Obi-Wan smiled, happily accepting the kiss he was given. Obi-Wan might actually be able to relax a little on his birthday, when he was safely away from the sith. “But what about you, don’t you want me here to watch your back?”

“If Dooku or Ventress were going to do anything, it would have been in an angry outburst yesterday when I told them of my promotion. Anything they did now would need to be calculated, and I have overwhelming numbers and every advantage on my own turf. Even Ventress isn’t stupid enough to try that. As for Opress, defeating him would be like child’s play.”

“If you’re sure…” Obi-Wan said slowly, biting at his lip and revealing his desire to get out of the compound for a while. Qui-Gon didn’t blame him, he was keen to do so himself. 

“I am sorry I can’t spend the entire day with, know that I want to.”

“It’s okay master, it’s not as though I gave you very much warning.”

“I think we should be rid of them again in a few more days.”

“Thank the force,” Obi-Wan replied with a relieved breath. 

Obi-Wan did go down to the market, and Qui-Gon relaxed a little at having his padawan away from the sith for a while, enjoying himself down in the Oleserra market, where he had made a number of casual friends over the months he’d been with him. 

His presents started arriving shortly after he was gone but before he had gone back to the meeting room to continue arguing about the mid-rim, and Qui-Gon was pleased he wasn’t here to see them, giving him time to get them moved into their bedroom and wrapped for Obi-Wan to open when they returned that evening. 

His mood tried to sour as the afternoon dragged on, Dooku and Ventress both sniping their fury at him, Opress still unnervingly silent, and Grievous proving to be worth more than any of the rest of them when it came to putting plans before personal politics. But he could always feel Obi-Wan’s enjoyment down in the town, and it kept him from any real turn in his mood. 

When the day’s arguments were over, Qui-Gon went to the kitchens and started putting together a dinner for himself and Obi-Wan to enjoy by the pond, the his personal chef helping him to put together everything Obi-Wan liked, and offering Qui-Gon suggestions on which order to serve it with. 

He was inspecting a bottle of Alderaanian wine when it slipped from his grip and smashed onto the floor as terror seized him. 

A scream for help crashed into his mind so hard he shook with it, had to steady himself on the counter as Obi-Wan’s intense and abrupt fear assaulted his mind. And then with an impossible lurch in his gut, as if someone had punched through his chest and ripped out his spine, Qui-Gon’s connection to Obi-Wan was brutally lost. The bond completely blocked with a suddenness that could only mean one thing, a collar around his neck, and Qui-Gon started running at an inhuman speed out of his compound and towards the market square.

Obi-Wan wasn’t there, there wasn’t even a disturbance, the Olserranian’s going about their business as if nothing had happened as Qui-Gon’s heart hammered in his chest. He roared so loudly they all startled, the darkness rolling off him in waves making them retreat from him, the square emptying, but he knew before they all ran that Obi-Wan wasn’t here. 

Obi-Wan was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )
> 
> See you friday?


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3
> 
> Warnings: v i o l e n c e

Obi-Wan’s head was pounding as he groaned his way into consciousness, before snapping the rest of the way in a panic as he reached out for the force and felt nothingness answer him. 

What had happened came back to him in a rush. The market, talking with Taphol about clothes for the festival. He’d been walking through the stalls, distracted -  _ happy _ \- and when a little girl had asked him to come use his magic to help get her pet down from a tree, he hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d felt uneasy ever since the sith had arrived on the Deimos and was paying no attention to his constant sense of foreboding.

Lured away from the crowd Obi-Wan had been too slow to realise what was happening, too slow to react when it did, seeing him for only a split second, barely recognising him, before the collar was around his neck and he took a sharp blow to the back of his head, knocking him out. He felt bruises all down his side and on his face, no doubt from when he had landed, his muscles ached and his hair was congealed with blood. 

But none of it was anything compared to the loss he felt from being blocked from the force, and the unrelenting dull ache coming from his hollow chest as his half of their still-volatile soul bond reached out desperately and was met with nothing. He doubled over, gasping as with consciousness his bond tried harder to connect, it felt like someone had reached inside his chest and was viciously squeezing his heart, making it beat against its natural rhythm.

It was as if his soul was battering itself bloody against an invisible wall, but the rough metal force collar was tight around his neck, chafing and breaking his skin, and Obi-Wan knew there would be no getting through it. So instead he tried to calm himself, faltering immediately when he tried to reach for the force to do it, his head pounding harder when he was met with nothing,  _ wrong wrong wrong _ chanting through his head. 

He breathed determinedly through his nose, pushed all his different pains as far aside as he could in his current state and tried to calm his thundering, out of time, heart. He focused on the room instead, he was in some kind of small cell, three metal walls and a forcefield, cramped and small, the floors were dirty and damp. There was nothing in here with him, just a small space he would barely be able to stretch out in. 

He closed his eyes and laid his palms flat on the floor, still closely controlling his breathing - a deep breath in through his nose, and slowly out through his mouth - and felt with his palms, panic flaring again and needing to be controlled as he tried to sense with the force. Thankfully touch was enough, and he could feel a faint thrum through the floor; they were on a ship then, that wasn’t good, space was impossibly vast. He thought of his master and the dull pain from his bond became acute and sharp, and he sobbed once before hauling himself back under control. 

“Oh good. You’re awake,” a familiar, slippery voice said, and Xanatos walked into view. 

What was left of Xanatos. Had Obi-Wan recognised him faster by that tree, then he might’ve reacted in time. 

One of his eyes were gone, and he was doing nothing to cover the grisly wound, the kind that no amount of bacta would fix. And bisecting his face was a terrible burn only partly healed over, leaving a mottled, ugly slash across his face, testing the limits of the bacta it was clearly being soaked in to little avail now, a telltale blueish tinge around the angry red edges of the wound. And his lips, that had always been prettily glossed and plumped, were now partly burned away, and couldn’t completely cover his teeth.

Xanatos had always been pale, but with the red gash across his face, he seemed unhealthily so now. He was tall and had always held himself in a perfect proud posture, but he was slightly hunched over now, holding himself at a strange angle and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why. 

He had known Qui-Gon had hurt him, planned to hurt him more, he should have been horrified by what he saw, how badly Xanatos had been brutalised, should have been scared of his master’s capacity for violence. But his soul was screaming for its other half, he felt as if he’d been scraped raw, he was in agony, all Xanatos had ever been was cruel to him and all he could think was that his master shouldn’t have played with his food. 

He didn’t speak, looked away from the figure before him and shifted himself back until he was sitting with his back against the wall, back to focussing on his disjoined, almost painful, heartbeat. 

“Speak, worm!” Xanatos shouted and Obi-Wan took a breath, tried to control his pain and anger without being able to release them to the force, he needed to not antagonise Xanatos, he needed to stay alive until his master found him or until he could escape. 

But space was so vast.

“What would you like me to say?” Obi-Wan asked, it was the wrong thing to say - there had probably not been a single right thing to say - and Xanatos’ mangled face contorted in rage and Obi-Wan cried out in fresh pain as the force collar around his neck shocked him, his body convulsing.

“Stop pretending like you’re some calm fucking jedi!” Xanatos screeched, able to be heard over the second shock of electricity, the unhinged edge to his voice had grown, consumed his entire tone, and Xanatos beat his fist against the forcefield with an angry scream of his own. 

Xanatos shocked him again and again and again, Obi-Wan’s entire being was alight with pain, he felt his heart stop at one point and start beating again at the next shock, he felt like he was having a heart attack, like every one of his nerves was on fire, like his body no longer knew how to beat and breathe and pulse. 

He was completely immobilised, not able to do anything but spasm uncontrollably on the dirty floor, when Xanatos took down the forcefield and stormed into the cell. Obi-Wan tried to react, tried to move, to run, to defend himself, to fight back, anything; but his body refused to respond, and his head was bleeding sluggishly again, his mind and brain felt distorted by the electricity. Despite his best efforts, he remained limp when Xanatos grabbed him roughly. 

He was hauled up by his hair, Xanatos was ranting in a language Obi-Wan didn’t understand, spitting at Obi-Wan in his furor. Obi-Wan panicked when Xanatos grabbed his braid instead, tried to push him away but his arms were weak and uncoordinated, didn't even make purchase. 

“You’re not a fucking  _ jedi _ ,” Xanatos hissed, lit his saber, and cut the braid, close enough to Obi-Wan’s scalp to burn his hair and ear. 

“No, no!” Obi-Wan shouted, finding his voice as he crashed back down to the floor, no longer held up by the braid. Because it was gone, Xanatos had taken it, and he felt fresh hatred welling in his gut, he wished Qui-Gon had hurt him more, wished he had never escaped. Tears were welling in his eyes as Xanatos screwed the braid up in his hand, he made a weak swipe for it and was repaid with a sharp kick to his chest, knocking him back and making him bash his head on the wall as he stumbled in the small space. 

“You don’t fucking get it do you!” Xanatos screamed at him, opening up a few wounds on his raw and ruined lips. “I was just like you, I was just like you! But I was better! I was chosen by the time I was ten! You got sent to  _ Bandomeer _ , how could he choose you over me, you’re nothing!” He grabbed Obi-Wan from the floor again, his fingers clawing him.

Xanatos was shaking him, and everything inside Obi-Wan already felt rattled loose from the electricity, he couldn’t catch his breath, his struggling bond felt as though someone was stepping down on his chest, but still he heard what Xanatos said. He hadn’t known Xanatos had ever been a jedi, he’d never cared enough to ask Qui-Gon where he had come from. 

“Even the jedi came for you, I was just abandoned to him! And you didn’t even belong to them! What makes you so special, why does everyone want you?!” Xanatos’ voice was growing hoarse as he screamed into Obi-Wan’s face, spittle flying past his maimed lips, new cuts openings, old ones oozing blood and pus. “He put a collar on you! He claimed you, WHY DID HE NEVER CLAIM ME!”

The screeching pitch of Xanatos’ shriek pierced Obi-Wan’s ear, but Obi-Wan didn’t answer, could barely speak from all the different pains he was feeling, knew his voice would only make Xanatos angrier anyway. The creature shaking him was pitiable, but he was also endangering his bond with Qui-Gon, keeping him from his master, and Obi-Wan hated him. Xanatos roared with rage and threw Obi-Wan to the floor again, kicked him hard in the gut once and then smashed his own fist against the dirty metal wall of the cell. 

Xanatos slammed his fist into the wall again and again while he screamed, until it was bloody and broken, Obi-Wan watching in horror as he did. And then as suddenly as it had started, Xanatos stopped. He stopped screaming, stopped bashing his fist against the wall, and stood up straight, in the posture he’d always had on the Deimos. His back was straight, his expression settled, looking neutrally down at Obi-Wan, as if his hand wasn't shattered and bleeding at his side. 

Obi-Wan watched him in alarm, realising now how much danger he was in, just how disturbed Xanatos had become. If he wanted to survive it wouldn’t be enough not to antagonise him, Obi-Wan would have to find a way to keep him calm. 

“No matter, you’re wearing my collar now,” Xanatos said serenely, looking down at Obi-Wan with a sick smile before shocking Obi-Wan again and making him collapse back to the floor. “You’ll never wear his again. We’re going to have fun together,  _ pet _ , and I’ll make sure our old master sees it.”

He shocked Obi-Wan again as he turned and stepped out of the cell, reactivating the forcefield. Obi-Wan wondered how much more electricity his heart could take before it just gave out. Xanatos had no self control, just because he intended to keep Obi-Wan alive didn’t mean he would manage it. 

“I was not the one who hurt you, Xanatos,” Obi-Wan said to his back as he left, and for a moment he thought it was a mistake, that he should have just stayed quiet, that he was quite possibly about to lose every one of his teeth in the ensuing rage. But Xanatos just beat his crippled hand against the forcefield of the cell again and bared his teeth. 

“I know who hurt me,” Xanatos snarled, and Obi-Wan couldn’t be sure what he meant.

In his cell it was impossible for Obi-Wan to tell how much time was passing, even if there had been windows the blackness of space would have told him nothing, and the food he received seemed to be sporadic at best, not following any kind of pattern - he felt lucky that it came at all, meagre as it was. So he didn’t know how long he had been down there before Xanatos visited him again, but it was too long alone with his withering bond carving out his chest. 

He had hoped he would growed used to his disconnect to the force, but the longer it went on for the more he seemed to struggle, the more he thought about it the knot of anxiety in his chest grew; what if he never got out of here, what if the rest of his days were confined to this cell and this collar and Xanatos’ amusement. 

He had never relieved how much he relied on the force either, until it was taken away from him. At first he thought his lack of balance and coordination had been a result of the shocks and the head wound, but eventually he realised it was the force, no longer there to buoy and steady him. 

He had to get out of this cell, but it was too tiny to have a weakness, and he was too closely watched. He could see through the forcefield door, but his small cell faced a wall so his vantage point was poor, and from what little he could tell, there was a droid always stationed in the tiny brig with him, watching him closely, as he was rebuked by a robotic voice any time he got too close to the forcefield - not that there was anything he could do with that anyway, no way to sabotage it from his side. 

When Xanatos returned, Obi-Wan didn’t notice at first, he was dozing fitfully, and without the force had no way of sensing when someone approached him silently, only jerking awake when Xanatos spoke. It discomforted him to think that he had no idea how long the other man had been standing there. 

“You’re not even beautiful,” Xanatos spat, Obi-Wan only barely managed to hold onto the  _ neither are you, anymore _ that tried to spill out of his lips. Xanatos was wearing a mask now, black and red and it covered most of his face, only his surviving right eye and the upper right quadrant of his face left on show - the only part that was left unmarked. 

It was strange, from just that strip of face, it was as if an echo of Xanatos’ lost beauty was sounding around the space, but Obi-Wan knew what lurked beneath that mask. 

“Beauty is often in the eye of the beholder, or so I hear,” Obi-Wan replied when he realised Xanatos wanted him to. His only hope for getting out of this cell was for Xanatos to open the door and give him an opportunity to strike - although where he went from there Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. He couldn’t even beat Xanatos when he had been fairly armed, and there was no use getting himself killed uselessly. He had to be smart about this, his every move calculated, and he didn’t know enough about what Xanatos wanted yet to know what the best move was. 

“Only ugly people have ever said that,” Xanatos sneered, and Obi-Wan didn’t need the force to hear the new self-hatred that was tearing through his words; Obi-Wan wondered if Xanatos obsessively looked at his ruined face in mirrors, or if there wasn’t a single one on the ship. 

But he knew in that moment that appealing to Xanatos’ vanity wasn’t going to work, what Xanatos had once been so proud of was gone, and he knew it all too well, even with his capacity for self-delusion. 

“What do you want with me?” Obi-Wan asked, he had an idea, one that he hoped was not true. 

With the mask, he couldn’t read Xanatos’ expressions, and it made him nervous, made Xanatos harder to read, relying on his body language to give Obi-Wan warnings instead of the expressions roaring over his face, as clear to read as a child's book. He needed to tread carefully, if Xanatos flew into a rage, he wouldn’t make it to the next day.

“Not very clever either,” Xanatos sneered, a bitter undercurrent to everything he said, as he failed to see why Qui-Gon had never wanted him. 

“You have me as trapped as a rat, surely there is no harm in telling me,” Obi-Wan replied, trying to get Xanatos to talk. 

He had a theory, one that he had little proof of but that had developed in his mind, that he was the only other living being on this ship. He was confined to a tiny section of the ship, but the only other voices he had ever heard were droids, and with what he knew of Xanatos, Obi-Wan was sure he would go to great lengths to stop other people from being able to look at him. 

Obi-Wan knew some of the things Xanatos had done for Qui-Gon, the way he’d allowed himself to be whored out at Qui-Gon’s convenience - anything to try and gain favour - and the way that for all his power in the force, Xanatos had put greater pride and stock in his face, and his ability to use it to entice and manipulate, than he had ever put in any other part of himself. After losing it, he was almost sure Xanatos wouldn’t want to be seen, would go to great lengths to avoid it. 

Which would mean that they were alone on this ship, and whatever Xanatos had been reduced to he was still a living creature, and humans were social. It had been weeks since Xanatos had escaped the Deimos, he had been surrounded by people in the past, he would be craving interaction, whatever human contact he could get; and Obi-Wan was his only option. Obi-Wan only hoped that he had the savvy he would need to exploit that.

“I don’t owe you anything,” Xanatos replied, and an electric shock rang through Obi-Wan’s body, put more stress on his heart, made his unworked muscles spasm, and he couldn’t help but cry out. 

He heard Xanatos’ pleased laugh at the sound, and whimpered again as the shock wore off. It was difficult to tell with the mask, but Xanatos’ shoulders were more relaxed than when he’d arrived. The forcefield went down and Xanatos stepped into the cell, Obi-Wan shuffled back more tightly into the corner, and Xanatos’ remaining eye shone with glee. As he moved, Obi-Wan saw a holocamera outside the cell, red light on, and his anxiety grew.

Control, that was what Xanatos wanted, and when he felt like he had it, he was calmer. It was just unfortunate for Obi-Wan what made him feel in control. 

In truth, he could barely feel anything over the pain from his bond anyway. 

He cried in pain once more, exaggerated the final convulse of his body and slumped back against the wall of his cell, his face scrunched up. He felt a small lick of victory, when he hope was right, and Xanatos was compelled to speak. 

“Rat...that would have been a better name for you thank pet,” Xanatos scoffed, voice acidic. “I’m going to keep you alive little rat, and I’m going to do to you everything that your precious master threatened to do to me.” He was unnervingly calm, but calm was better than volatile, still Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. He made sure Xanatos could see his fear, knowing that it would satisfy him. 

“W-what did Avarus promise to do to you?” Obi-Wan asked, and Xanatos threw his head back and laughed, a horrible sound, like the precarious creak of overburdened metal. He had never asked his master for details, but with the state of Xanatos’ face, he could guess. 

“Oh did he not tell you little rat? Did he not tell his precious Kenobi all his plans? Of course not, you and your facade of jedi-hood you’d have fled as soon as you saw the real him.  _ I _ tried to make him see that, I tried to save him from your disgusting influence, he never appreciated me!” Xanatos began to work himself up, breathing coming more loudly, and there was something wrong with the way he was breathing, like it was shallow, and he couldn’t breathe more deeply. 

“Avarus left me out of a lot of things,” Obi-Wan replied, perhaps if he could make Xanatos think that his relationship with his master had not been as deep as he’d perceived, he might be able to find a way out. 

“Of course he did, you’re a pathetic excuse for a force sensitive,” Xanatos replied, though the words sat strangely, the tone confused. He was defending Qui-Gon’s choices like a reflex, but his fists were tightening, knuckles going white; Xanatos hated that he’d done that. “I’m going to tell you, little rat, I’m going to tell you so that you know what he’s really like, why you  _ never _ could have been right for him. Why couldn’t he see that it was  _ me _ ! He should have been me all along.”

Obi-Wan stayed quiet and it was the wrong mood, he was shocked by the collar again and he collapsed forward as the forcefield dropped with an angry growl from Xanatos. He kicked Obi-Wan twice, hard in the stomach, knowing the wind out of him, his muscles not knowing how to move as he panted on the floor. Obi-Wan let himself cry, let Xanatos think he had that control to try and calm him, really giving himself a moment of weakness at the way the bond was raking out his chest. 

He was grabbed by the collar, the movement chafing fresh breaks into his raw skin as the rusted metal moved against him. Xanatos brought him up to his face and clawed a nail across Obi-Wan’s skin, a mimicry of what his master had done with a saber to Xanatos’ face. Xanatos opened up a cut and Obi-Wan squealed louder than he usually would have, to give Xanatos the satisfaction he wanted. 

“I’m going to hurt you, I’m going to break you. You were never beautiful, little rat, but I am going to make you so grotesque to look upon that even Avarus can’t stand to look at you. I’m going to take pieces of you away, cut them out with my saber, with primitive knives so that you bleed and bleed and bleed. I’ll treat you so that you don’t die, but I’m going to leave you always in pain. 

“And I’m going to film it, little rat, you like to be filmed, don’t you, rat. I made sure the entire galaxy saw how you liked to be filmed before, but these videos are going to be just for Avarus this time. I want him to see as I dismantle you, unmake you, piece by piece until there is nothing left. 

“And then I’m going to take your eyes, cut out your tongue, and throw you to a Vadhoh brothel, just like he promised to do to me. He was a feeble, miserable excuse for a sith after you got your filthy hands on him, it’ll destroy him to see that happen to you. I’m going to break a sith lord, by breaking a rat,” Xanatos finished, a manic laugh bubbling out of him as he shook Obi-Wan roughly. “I’m going to destroy him, I’m going to destroy him! For what he did, to me, what he took-!” Xanatos began to grow volatile again, his anger starting to cascade. Obi-Wan let himself tremble, Xanatos was so close to his face as he spoke, every word was vicious, and Obi-Wan felt genuine fear building inside him. 

Xanatos scratched his face, gouging his skin and opening up new cuts on his face, and then he clawed at him again and again and he started to rant and rave. 

“He took everything from me, he takes and takes and takes and for what! For what, rat!? I let him take whatever he wanted and it still- it wasn’t- ! He killed- he killed Flukoa! He killed her and he took me and he desecrated me until they didn’t want me anymore and then HE THREW ME AWAY AS WELL!”

Blood was running down his face, and Xanatos’ fingers were wet with it but he didn’t stop and Obi-Wan started to panic, cried out with pain and fear, louder and more genuine every time he did it, growing faint from the wounds in his face. He screamed out when Xanatos clawed at one of his eyes and pain tore through him, he didn’t know if begging for his life would make it better or worse, but the volume of his scream seemed to be enough, and Xanatos’ ranting turned to frenzied laughter as he clawed him once more and then shoved him roughly back to the floor. 

He grabbed the camera and shoved it in Obi-Wan’s face, holding him by his hair and shaking Obi-Wan as hard as he could with one hand and the force, rattling his body and making him bite his tongue hard. 

“You see Avarus! See that I have your little rat! You’re never even going to find the pieces!” Xanatos cackled before letting go of Obi-Wan and shocking him again as he locked him back in his cell and left. 

Obi-Wan spent long minutes - possibly hours - lying on the floor taking deep breaths. Eventually a medical droid arrived and pushed a measly amount of bacta through a small window created by the forcefield. Obi-Wan applied it carefully, trying to clean up some of the blood running down his cheeks with the sleeve of his clothes, dirty from the floor. 

The gel was a balm to his cheeks, relief washing through him immediately, reminding him of the pain of his bond, screaming out, no amount of bacta could fix that. He felt his face healing up a small amount, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes, tried to meditate without the force. It was an exercise in futility at first, a basic sense he had always needed to achieve meditation lost to him, but he also knew that meditation wasn’t something only practiced by the jedi, and eventually he found a kind of calmness in his mind, even if he could feel the weight of his current situation and the hurt of the decaying bond still. 

He focused his mind on the things Xanatos had said, what he’d revealed during his ranting and screeching, what Obi-Wan had been able to hear over the roar of pain in his ears.

Flukoa, the name sounded familiar but Obi-Wan had to work hard to place it, but he had nothing but time during these stretches Xanatos left him alone, and eventually he remembered her, a mirialan jedi master. Obi-Wan remembered the temple mourning when he was an initiate, and reports of her death reached them. He couldn’t remember mention of Darth Avarus being the cause, but at that age, he’d have no reason to retain that. He did remember talk of a padawan, also presumed dead. 

He wondered if the jedi would ever stop making presumptions. 

The meditation helped him to pass the time and Obi-Wan looked inwards, to the fraying tatters of his half of the bond, but without the force to reach for it, there was nothing he could do to soothe it. Thinking of his master made the pain worse, almost intolerable, but it also made the withering bond feel a little stronger, so he endured and pictured Qui-Gon.

He comforted himself with memories of his master’s kind touches, the sweet words he said, how effortlessly he had made space for Obi-Wan in his life. There was no doubt in Obi-Wan’s mind that his master was looking for him, he knew that he was, that he wouldn’t rest until they were reunited. And neither would Obi-Wan. 

In another life he might have pitied Xanatos. Had Xanatos been anything other than cruel to him since he arrived on the Deimos, Obi-Wan might have tried to help him, might have convinced Qui-Gon to have some mercy on his desperate lieutenant. But Xanatos had never earned that kindness from Obi-Wan, as he had offered him nothing but scorn and derision. 

Obi-Wan knew what his master was, he had stopped shying away from it after the jedi had tried to take him. His master was a sith, his master had as much capacity for cold cruelty as he did for compassion and love, the duality of his nature was a large part of what made him so compelling, so consuming to be around.

However Xanatos had been forged into the thing he was now, he had still made his own choices. He had still decided to be cruel when Obi-Wan came aboard, had decided to hurt him at every turn in any way he could. He had still decided to burn Obi-Wan in their duel instead of turning his sabers down, believing that Qui-Gon wouldn’t find out. And now he had decided to kidnap Obi-Wan and hurt him, over and over and over again. 

He didn’t know the details of where Xanatos had come from, and he didn’t particularly care. He was sure someone out there would have compassion for him, but as the dying bond wailed and Xanatos returned over and over to tortue and torment him; Obi-Wan knew it wasn’t him. 

For all Xanatos’ words, he seemed to lack the patience to carry out his version of Qui-Gon’s plan. He came to the cell every day, sometimes twitching with rage before he had even reached him, other times he was calm to start. When he was given the chance Obi-Wan tried to distract him with conversation, although navigating one with Xanatos as he was now and without the force was like trying to move through a minefield while blindfolded. 

When the camera appeared, Obi-Wan knew that Xanatos would not be distracted, that he had come down with a purpose in mind. He had taken a risk the first time Xanatos had done that, thinking about what Xanatos’ plan was, and he’d deliberately made him mad, made him boil with anger under firsts were raining down on him without any of the purpose and precision - without any of unhealable injuries - that had Xanatos had planned for him. 

It had worked, the price a broken arm, a badly bruised face, a crushed foot, a stomach awash with colour from so many bruises, gouges from Xanatos’ nails everywhere. But it worked every time, whenever Xanatos started his work, Obi-Wan sent him into a rage, took a more chaotic beating, and survived intact. 

He was so alight with pain that it was difficult to distinguish one from another, he felt tired all the time. But it was bruises and cuts, which if deep and agonising, wouldn’t kill him, not with the dregs of bacta he was managing to get from the medical droid. 

Xanatos was calmer today, but more vindictive, and Obi-Wan had kept his face placid as his braid, cut away on his first day in this cell, was burned in front of him. It made his heart ache, his bond cry, the pain more acute all of a sudden. He tried to look like he did care as a plan had begun to form over the last few times Xanatos had come to him. His screaming had changed, it was more directed, always about Avarus, how much he hated him, everything he had taken from him. Obi-Wan was no more to him than a tool to get his revenge, and there was opportunity in that. 

“A fucking braid. It's pathetic, that he’d want you to have one of these. He laughed at mine, he laughed at it,” Xanatos was muttering, mostly to himself as the smell of burning hair filled the tiny cell, Obi-Wan’s body spasming with the latest shocks from the collar - always shocked before Xanatos entered his cell, and always when he left too. “And then he laughed when I cut it away too. I wonder if he’s laughing now, are you laughing now Avarus?” 

His voice was rising, he was paying more attention to the holocamera than he was to Obi-Wan, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could get past him, not unarmed and cut off from the force and weak from beatings.

“I’m going to ruin his face tomorrow. Yes. that’s what I’ll send you tomorrow. How much will you like your precious fucking pet when I make him look like me. You took everything from me! Even my face! You took, you took - my master. But you’ll see, you’ll see I’m going to make Obi-Wan’s face just as  _ pretty _ as mine!” Xanatos started to rant and alarm bells went off in Obi-Wan, one of the more dangerous topics Xanatos reached for, he needed to distract him.

“You were a jedi? I didn’t know that,” Obi-Wan said, steering the conversation away from anything to do with Xanatos’ face, though he had no idea if that put him on any safer ground than before. There was no permanently safe ground with Xanatos, ruled too heavily by his roiling moods. 

“And why would you, unlike you I didn’t cling to the light like a terrified child,” Xanatos spat. “And I was  _ better _ that you, I was chosen, my master, she- she-,” Xanatos started to shake again, his eye becoming unfocused, and Obi-Wan whimpered when Xanatos grabbed him by the hair and shook him sharply. “WHY YOU LITTLE RAT? Why did they all want you in the end? Avarus took everything from me, he killed her and he- he took everything and he GAVE IT TO YOU!”

Obi-Wan found himself thrown to the floor again, and he tried to shuffle back only to be shocked, hard, and end up convulsing on the floor as Xanatos continued his tirade. 

“I hate him. I hate him. What he did to me, I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you so he know how it feels. You should have stayed on Bandomeer, little rat,” Xanatos growled, and Obi-Wan’s shocked body was too rigid from the shocks for him to defend himself. 

He cried out at every blow, familiar by now with how much faster Xanatos calmed back down when he got to hear Obi-Wan’s pain. Though nothing Xanatos did to him matched the pain burrowing through his chest all the time, through his soul and the shredding bond. Xanatos shocked him again, punched and kicked at his chest with brutal, chaotic hits, he clawed at Obi-Wan, his actions uncoordinated. He only stopped when he smashed Obi-Wan’s head against the wall, opening up a fresh cut that made him light headed, and slumping helplessly into the wall, having to take a moment to catch himself, and stave off the wave of dizziness. 

“Look Avarus, look at your precious pet, look at the way the room is stained with his blood,” Xanatos said, making himself let out a sudden, half-deranged laugh as he noticed just how much blood had tinted the walls. Obi-Wan tried not to look, he needed to concentrate. “Lets see if your pathetic  _ love _ can do anything but hurt you now.” Xanatos growled into the camera before stabbing with uncareful fingers to turn it off, smearing Obi-Wan’s blood all over it. 

Obi-Wan knew that Xanatos hated him for getting what he never had, but he also hated Qui-Gon, for everything he had done to Xanatos over the years, he hated him so much it was pouring out of his every seam. Obi-Wan could only hope that his hate for Qui-Gon outweighed his resentment of himself, or the plan building in his head would never work. 

He thought he could see a way to trick Xanatos into letting him out, and Obi-Wan steeled himself, swallowed down the bile rising in his throat just from the thought of what he was about to say, and opened his mouth to speak. 

“I don’t love him,” Obi-Wan said, watching as he froze in surprise, his yellow eye narrowed and boring into Obi-Wan. “I never did, it was an act, to get what I wanted.” He was glad the camera was off.

“I’m not a fool,” Xanatos barked back, rage filling him so very quickly as he grabbed Obi-Wan’s face, his jagged nails biting into his skin hard enough to break the skin.

“I want to be trained.”

“I don’t care what you want,” Xanatos spat, throwing him to the floor.

“You misunderstand me, Xanatos, the only reason I went with Avarus in the first place, the only reason I flattered him and was such a good pet, and let him do those vile things to me, was because I wanted to be trained. I never cared for him, only what he could teach me. I planned to kill him once my training was complete, for the things he thought he had leave to do to me, as if I was nothing more than his favoured whore.”

“Liar,” Xanatos sneered, he was taller than Obi-Wan, stared down at him, was threatening his windpipe with the force. But he hadn’t choked him yet, and there was the smallest hint of hesitation in his voice, Obi-Wan latched onto it. “Avarus loves you, it’s pathetic.”

“He does, I almost pity him for it. It certainly made it easier than I’d imagined to get what I wanted. Who would have thought a sith would be so weak,” Obi-Wan forced himself to sneer, his withering half of their bond was making him feel sick, he was glad Xanatos didn’t know it was there, or there would be no fooling him. 

There were a hundred reasons why the lie shouldn’t work, why Xanatos should be able to see through it easily, the truth of Obi-Wan’s feelings was written in how he’d cried for his braid, in every interaction Xanatos had seen between them. But Obi-Wan knew how deluded Xanatos was, how he only needed the slightest bit of help to believe something that he wanted to be true, no matter how clear the evidence against it was. 

After all, he’d thought he was special to Qui-Gon for years.

“Why would you only tell me this now?” Xanatos asked, his hand was on his saber and Obi-Wan tried not to fixate on it, there would be nothing he could do if Xanatos decided to light it and silence him in a fit of anger. 

“I didn’t know what you wanted. I didn’t know you would be...amenable to my offer. But now I can see that we are aligned, we both hate him, we can both have our revenge for the way he treated us,” Obi-Wan said, it was a risk, trying to align them, as if what either of them had been through was the same. 

Obi-Wan’s bond was screaming at him, and it took all of the strength he had not to let it show on his face how badly it hurt to just say these things. The worst part was that he knew what would happen if he was successful, that his master would stop getting holovids of Obi-Wan being hurt, and start getting them of Obi-Wan cooperating, calling Xanatos master. The thought turned his stomach, made him have to suffocate the urge to collapse to the ground a retch. 

Xanatos had paused, doubt growing in his mind over what he knew to be true, when presented with something he’d rather was, and Obi-Wan latched onto it.

“I could be your padawan instead, it’s all I care about and you are formidable with the force, it would be my honour. He took so much from you, never appreciated you, but now you could take something from him.”

“I already took you,” Xanatos replied, but he was faltering, if he could feel the force Obi-Wan knew he could be choking on Xanatos’ emotions, he was volatile with them, each one overwhelmed and owned Xanatos, consumed him for the time he felt it. 

“Think about it, Xanatos, what do you think would hurt Avarus more? You taking me and hurting me, or you replacing him?” Obi-Wan said, and he could see the moment the idea took root in Xanatos’ mind, a twisted smile sprawling out over his features.

“Get up padawan. We both know your training is lacking,” Xanatos said, and walked away, leaving the forcefield dropped. 

Obi-Wan wondered what he would have to do to convince Xanatos to take the collar off his neck and his gut felt filled with lead. But he could feel their bond dying, and knew he would do whatever it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to qui next time, three chapters to go, your comments are rly helping me atm so thank u to everyone <3


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again your comments are killing me, and I thank you for every one of them <3
> 
> Warnings: violence (even more than before)

There were a lot of noises in the room, but they were all quiet. The hum of his lightsaber, the laboured breathing of Dooku and Opress, the drip drip drip of Ventress’ blood slipping from his knuckles and onto the floor, the purr of the force fields. 

He pushed Ventress aside with his boot, her lifeless body making a dull thud as it hit the cold metal floor. Her dead face was still pouring out blood where Avarus had caved in her face with his fist, crumpling it like cheap metal. She might have survived it, but not the burned out hole boring through her chest, bit of melted skin sloughing onto the ground.

Opress was looking at her, unable to take his eyes off her. Silent and unblinking. The collar around his neck was bleeding and oozing around the nails that made it irremovable. Dooku’s gaze was steady and trained on Avarus, it was annoying, irritating him like a chafe under his skin, and his old master should know better.

“I am going to ask you again. Which one of you took Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Avarus asked, he was certain it had been one of the two of them. Dooku to try and control him, Opress to take revenge for his brother. Ventress had been possible, but least likely, and she would have squealed where he was if she’d known when he’d begun to destroy her face. She hadn’t known, and had become most useful to him as an example to the other two, of just how serious he was. 

“We were both  _ here _ ,” Opress snarled, finally jarred into speaking by the sight of Ventress’ body on the floor. Not that his words were any help to him. 

“How foolish do you think I am. Perhaps you didn’t lay your own hands on him, but I have no doubt it was the machinations of one of you. One of you knows where he is, and neither of you will leave here alive if I do not find out.”

“The emperor will never let you get away with this,” Dooku spat, he was straining his neck against the collar, making the nails tear at his skin. They were both on their knees, their hands manacled, and Avarus knew how much it would be costing his old master to be forced to look up to him like this, as Avarus loomed over them both. 

“Perhaps. If I kill you both I’m sure his annoyance will be...considerable. But tell me, master mine,” Avarus said, his voice low and dangerous, eating up the space between them until his face was just inches from Dooku’s. “Do you see him anywhere?”

He would take the wrath of Sidious, he didn’t care, let the old cur rage and fume, so long as he had Obi-Wan back, he wouldn’t care. And if the emperor tried to touch him, Avarus would kill him too. They were nothing to him, none of them, and he would cleave through them to find Obi-Wan without a second thought. 

No matter how Sidious felt about his actions, he would never get here in time to do anything about it, and he watched as that realisation sunk into his old master. Both Dooku and Opress’ entourages had been ceased, all transmissions from his base disabled, every door shuttered down and locked tight. Not a single person nor a single lick of data was moving from this building without him knowing about it. 

“The longer this takes, the harder it is going to become for you. Every second I spend without my padawan back safely at my side is a  _ day  _ of pain you will endure at my hand. And you should know how good I am at making it hurt, Dooku, you taught me that lesson, and I learned it well,” Avarus said, pacing a lin in front of the two pathetic sith kneeling before him. 

Shortly after they had left the jedi order, Dooku had taught him the art of extracting information that one did not wish to be parted from. His old master would never admit it, but Avarus knew the aptitude he had shown for that particular skill had scared him, and he could smell it on him now; fear. Good, without being able to reach out to the dark to aid them, all his captives experiencing fear would do was make them more malleable. 

“I cannot tell you information I do not have, and inflicting pain is not going to change what I do and do not know,” Dooku snarled back, as if avarus would ever believe either of them. 

Both of them had had reason to want to harm Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan had disappeared. He had failed him, let them be snatched. One of the worms in front of him had paid someone in the town to snatch him, he was sure of it, and he would get his answers. He had everyone under his command searching down his network, every arm of it to try and find news on Obi-Wan. His reach was vast, but space was almost limitless, and no matter how far his reach, he knew that his best hope of finding his padawan was to discover where he was from the source. 

So much rage was boiling beneath his skin that it was hard to focus, hard to keep his mind on track as every cell in his beings begged to just destroy them, to hurt them and punish them for what they had done to him, for what they had done to Obi-Wan. The soul bond between them was struggling, writhing and reaching out for the other half it needed to live, Avarus channeled the pain, held onto it and added it to the dark cloud swirling around them, the dark becoming a tangible thing around him. 

It had terrified Dooku, when he had first seen Avarus manifest the dark side around him. An inexorable smog of blackness around him, void-like tendrils lashing out and harming anything that came near to him, the control he had over it, the things that he could make it do, how powerful that kind of discipline made him. He had never seen Palpatine do it, he was sure by now that he couldn’t, that he was the only one. 

Opress tried to make himself smaller as the cloud grew larger and denser around Avarus, they could see nothing but him now, no walls, nor the ceiling, not the other people in the room or even the floor. Just darkness, and at it’s centre; Avarus. 

“I don’t believe you,” Avarus said, and he let a whip of darkness shoot out and wrap around Dooku’s throat, just above the vicious collar, and he squeezed.

He was choking him on every level, squeezing his skin, his muscles, his windpipe; every layer of Dooku’s throat he crushed under the vine of darkness, watching, grinding his teeth in his growing anger as Dooku started to struggle, his eyes beginning to bulge, his hands desperately trying to escape their bonds to claw at the darkness around his neck. As if that would have helped him anyway. 

With a gargantuan effort, he released Dooku before the life left his body, let him crash to the ground, unable to catch himself with his bound hands and bloodying up his face as he cracked it against the metal floor. He hissed as the dark fog rolling like waves over the floor stung his newly opened wounds, like a toxin in the air, and he struggled to sit back up. His white beard was streaked with blood, and Avarus sneered down at him. 

“To think I once thought you powerful.”

“I don’t  _ know _ where your padawan is,” Dooku spat, a glob of blood and spit hitting the floor, covered immediately by the dark mist on the floor. “I am sure you have no shortage of enemies. I hope that all the time you waste here with us, whoever has taken that disgusting toy of yours has got so far away you will never find them.”

Avarus roared with rage, his anger overwhelming him as he drew back with the force and slammed a heavy cascade of darkness down on his own master, like dislodging boulders from a cliff. But it wasn’t enough, didn’t even begin to cool the fury in his bones, fuelled by the pain from the bond and exacerbated by Dooku’s words, and he moved forwards with his fists, held his old master by his hair and laid down blow after blow onto his face. 

He felt the proud nose cracking under his fists, felt bones snapping and moving. There was something about using his hands, about feeling himself connect physically with whoever was at his mercy that he had always found considerably more satisfying, a better release, a more physical outlet. He threw Dooku back to the ground before he was dead, moving away with a thundering growl that made the darkness ripple and pulse around him. 

He wanted to kill him, every fiber of his being wanted Dooku dead at his feet. Opress too, both of them, as his mercy and ripped in two. But Dooku was not Ventress, he didn’t trust that if he knew he would squeal before he died in an attempt to save himself. Dooku knew it wouldn’t save him, and would likely take pleasure in knowing that with his death, Avarus’ hopes of getting his padawan back would die with him. 

Looking at the creature at his feet, Avarus wondered if anyone would recognise the broken, bloody thing as the once proud Count Dooku. The empire had no use for anything as pathetic as this. 

He turned from Dooku, held him down with the force, smiled as his old master was unable to stop himself from howling with pain as the dark sea burned at his open wounds, sounding as though he was drowning as Avarus held him under, even as his attention moved to Opress. Opress was a lesser sith, far worse at hiding his emotions, at trying to manipulate a situation to his will. It was almost offensive to Avarus, that to the galaxy, they had been the same. Opress was nothing like him, could never be anything like him. He lacked the power, the intelligence, and the conviction. 

The empire didn’t need him either. 

He understood Sidious now, the way he surrounded himself with lesser beings to make himself seem bigger. He would look small standing next to Avarus. They all looked small. 

“Obi-Wan killed your brother. Does that make you angry? It shouldn’t, your brother was weak enough to be slaughtered like an animal by someone with only a few months of real training, he was pathetic and deserved what he got,” Avarus said, baring his teeth at Opress, and he laughed when Opress gnashed at him, pulling at his bindings. 

“He was nothing, and you are somehow even less. But did you miss your brother, Opress? Did you think that you would be able to have your revenge by taking my Obi-Wan? Did you think that you could touch him, and that you would ever be safe again?”

“I didn’t take him,” Opress said, his eyes were fiery, filled with so much contempt it was almost funny for how little it threatened Avarus. Even if Opress had been free, able to use the force and reach for his saber, it wouldn’t have threatened Avarus. Opress was nothing. “But I wish that I had. I wish that I had cut that snivelling rat into pieces and scattered him around for you to find.”

“Oh, Opress, you are going to regret that,” Avarus said, breathing out heavily through his nose, whisps of darkness blowing from his nose like the fire of a fabled creature. 

He reached forward, ran his hand over Opress’ head, wrapped his hand around one of his horns in a tight grip, and twisted until it snapped. Opress screamed out, his body convulsing in pain, and Avarus held him still, reached for the next one, and slowly, so slowly, put pressure on it until that one snapped away as well. Opress had six main horns, and Avarus broken every single one of them, until Opress was shaking and gasping for breath. 

He reached out for the smaller horns on either side of Opress’ head and drank up the panic beginning to fill the zabrak’s yellow eyes. He pulled with his hands and reached out with those dark tendrils of forcem, used his command over them reach under Opress’ skin, to wrap around the root of his horns, the muscle and bone that connected to it, and he started to rip him apart. 

The dark needles that were pressing under Opress’ skin tore at everything they could find, hacking and shredding under Opress’ skin as the zabrak screamed and wailed. Avarus wrapped more darkness around him and held him still, and smiled as the stubby horns under grip began to shift and give. 

Opress screamed and screamed as Avarus ripped his temple horns out at the root, tossing them aside when they came free in his hands, leaving behind two vicious holes in the side of Opress’ head. Avarus kicked him to the floor hard and pressed his boot over one of the wounds, stomped down on the wound and felt himself grow stronger of off Opress’ pain. 

“Where is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he asked calmly, Opress just screamed some more, an irritating sound. Avarus stamped on his face and moved away. He was still thrumming with the force, with his rage, but he needed these two alive until they gave him what he wanted. 

He forced himself to leave, secured the door with a code only he knew and left them to bleed and starve. He took himself to one of the lesser operations rooms, and destroyed it until he felt like he could breathe again.

He came back the next day and Dooku’s face was awash with colour, Opress seemed delirious with pain, the wounds on the side of his head looking infected, the roots of his remaining, broken horns looking red and irritated. He didn’t want to give him anything for the pain, but grit his teeth and with cruel hands forced a thin layer of bacta onto Opress’ head. He needed to be conscious and aware to tell Avarus where his Obi-Wan was. 

“What would be the point of telling you,” Dooku bit out in an foolish act of defiance, his idiotic pride no doubt demanding it of him. As if he could have any pride now, like this, hunched with a crumpled face in his own filth and blood. “If I had been the one to take him, you would never let me live.”

“If you have taken him, and you don’t tell me. I will keep you alive and every day I will discover a new type of pain for you to experience,” Avarus promised. “If you tell me where he is now, your death will at least not take...months.” 

Dooku was frustratingly silent as Avarus took a knife to his skin and carved pieces of him away. He wanted to cut out his tongue in retribution for his silence, if he didn’t want to speak then fine, Avarus would make it so that he could never speak again. But he still needed him to talk, it had been almost forty eight hours since Obi-Wan was taken, his network had picked up nothing, not even a whisper of his padawan, and his rage was getting harder t control with the hour. 

For all Avarus knew, whoever had Obi-Wan was under orders to kill him if whichever one of these parasites they were working for also died. There were too many variable, it had been a long time since Avarus had been so far on the back foot, had found it so difficult to be able to get what he wanted. 

He finally got an answer, when he took hold of Opress’ head in his hands, dug his thumbs into the gorey holes in his temple, and sent lightning coursing directly through his brain. He couldn’t imagine how much it had hurt, except that however bad it was, it wasn’t nearly enough. 

“Carlac!” Opress screamed. “He’s on Carlac!” 

Avarus’ fury was like a wave, crashing over him as he had confirmation that it had been this cockroach after all. He wanted to kill him, wanted to gut him slowly, so that half of his organs were outside his body before he had the relief of dying. But he needed him. Carlac was only a planet, and could take days - if not more - for Avarus to search with no direction. So he forced himself to leave the cell, to leave his two prisoners bleeding and shivering.

He barked an order down the comms to ready the ship and prepared to load the prisoners himself. His crew were well trained, had the Deimos ready to go in minutes, having been ready to leave as soon as they had a heading already. He bolstered his forces on the ground. None of Dooku, Opress or Grievous’ men were to be set loose, and Greivous was to be kept under guard still, locked in quarters. 

It had crossed his mind that Grievous might have been guilty, under instruction from the emperor, his latest experiment. But for now had only confined him to quarters, so sure it had been one of the other two, with greater motive, and he had been right. So instead he’d kept him locked up, where he couldn’t contact the emperor and tell him what was happening. It had angered the glorified droid, but Avarus hadn’t cared in the slightest. He’d throw the worthless hunk of metal in a trash compactor if he got in the way. 

He sedated and moved his two prisoners to the brig on his ship, knowing the risks of leaving Dooku under anyone but his own guard, he was a slippery man, and it would be all too easy for him to get past one of his men, if given any opportunity. Even if he escaped the brig on the Deimos, which given his weak state, was unlikely, he would have nowhere to go, and Avarus would find him. 

They were away within twenty minutes - twenty minutes too long as far as he was concerned. Carlac was in the outer rim, and they were moving fast, they would be there in under a day but it was taking too long, his half of the soul bond, renewed with hope was hurting even more actively than it had been, clawing at his chest and trying to find it’s promised other half. It wasn’t dead yet, could perhaps hold on for a week more, but not longer, and Avarus knew they would both be in so much pain by the time that week was up that they would be useless. It was already tempting to collapse under the weight, he hated knowing that his pet was going through the same thing. He had to find him, to get the collar off of him. 

When they reached Carlac Avarus started an invasive scan of the planet, had his crew pull up every insignificant snow tribe, every sad excuse for a town he could find as he dragged Opress up from the brig.

“Where is he!” Avarus demanded, wrapping the dark force around every organ in Opress’ body and getting ready to squeeze. 

“Lord Avarus we’re not picking up many life signs from the planet, it is sparsely populated,” Hanson said from his station, and Opress started to laugh, a wrecked, agonising thing that made his half-ruined body tremble out of sync with itself. 

“He’s not there,” he laughed, and Avarus felt something well inside of him, a kind of hatred he had never felt before, a kind of anger that could consume him. “I don’t  _ fucking _ know where he is,” Opress growled around his own wild laughter. “But it was funny to see you hope.”

With a roar Avarus yanked hard on the force, pulling Opress apart from the inside out, leaving a gutted, bloody mess on the floor. 

“Redouble our efforts with our network. Offer generous rewards to anyone with information that hands it over, and promise fire to anyone who withholds it,” Avarus seethed, the metal of the ship began to creak and buckle under the force of his rage. 

It was difficult for anyone to see him with the dark swirling around him, no longer surrounded by a controlled wave of dark energy, but encased in a wild hurricane of it. He could smell the fear of his crew, he needed an outlet, he needed to get down to the brig and channel everything into Dooku. 

Dooku. Dooku must have him. He was sure of it now, he would rip it out of him, he would break his mind with the force until his every secret came blathering out and then he would keep him locked up and confined, keep him as a constant way to vent his anger. He would never be done with him, never be - ”

“Lord Avarus, we have a transmission coming,” someone said to him, voice remarkably steady.

“From the planet?”

“No. I can’t trace its origin. Would you like me to play it?” He asked, and some of the darkness cleared as hope wrapped it’s icy grip around his chest; was it possible that Obi-Wan had found a way to contact him? He was clever, oh so clever, something other constantly overlooked in him. 

“Play it,” Avarus said, his darkness clearing a little as the viewscreen lit up with the transmission. 

He felt bile rising in his throat at what he saw. Obi-Wan, hsi Obi-Wan, in a collar being shocked and hit over and over and over again. Xanatos. Promising to do to Obi-Wan all the things Avarus had promised to do to him. 

Xanatos. He hadn’t even crossed his mind as a possibility. It seemed to clear that it would be one of the sith gathered here. That Xanatos would be stupid enough to come anywhere near him again, that he would be strong enough and organised enough to steal Obi-Wan and get off of planet. He felt himself consumed by rage and anger again, he wished Opress was still alive just so that he would have someone to tear through now, the ship was creaking dangerously under the force of his uncontrolled emotions. 

He was going to break every bone in Xanatos’ body. He was going to shred him. To reach inside him with the force and pull apart his every atom. He was going to keep him alive through it all, alive and awake, never allowed to rest, never allowed to recover. Just chipped away every single day until there was nothing left. He was going to take his other eye and  _ feed _ it to him. He was going to pull out his fingernails and pour acid on whatever remained. He was going to peel off hsi skin one inch at a time. Whatever he had promised to do to him before would pale in comparison to what he was going to do now. 

“Lord Avarus, the ship!” A voice got through the roaring in his ears, he reached out to silence it before recognising Gardan’s voice, he trusted Gardan, what he was trying to say, he was second away from ripping the ship apart at its very seams. He had to control himself or there would be no one left to find Obi-Wan. 

He forced himself into a desperate meditation, the light skittered away from him like a terrified animal and he reached for something to center himself. Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan needed him. He was in the clutches of that feral animal and if Avarus didn’t get ahold of himself he was going to stay there. That was unacceptable. 

He reeled himself in so hard any repressive jedi master would be proud. He turned his boiling anger into pure drive, though it still seethed from his every pour. His men looked relieved as the darkness cleared, clearing in Avarus’ mind also. In truth this was what made him so formidable, so untouchable. The impossible rage he felt wasn’t gone, it was saved, waiting, lurking inside of him until he could make use of it, until it was a good moment to let it out. He would let it fester and grown until he had Xanatos in his sights, and then he would let it free. 

“Analyse everything you can in the transmission. See if you can’t work out what type of ship Obi-Wan is being held in, it will help with our scans. Xantos will be moving constantly, he knows how far my reach is and he’ll know that otherwise we will catch him in no time. Which means fuel, he is going to be using a lot of fuel, send word to our contacts at every backwater space port and fuelling scoop in the rim, I want them looking for anyone with Xanatos’ hair, race and build, but he’ll be wearing that mask we saw. 

“Gardan, send out activation order Grid Hara to everyone on this list,” Avarus said, tapping furiously and going through the biometric scans on his datapad to unlock the details of his most hidden list of contacts, the ones no one but himself had known about - people and places that Xanatos wouldn’t know to avoid. “They’ll know what it means, make sure they know who we’re looking for. I want to know what ship he’s on. I will pay ten million credits to anyone who manages to put a tracker on that ship. Spread the word. 

“Daxos, after what I did to Xanatos he is going to need bacta, lots of it, and he isn’t going to be getting it from any reputable vendor, at least half of them are in out pockets, and twenty percent of them Xanatos didn’t know about,” he explained, reaching for another datapad and unlocking it, his hundred silent agents highlighted for the ops lieutenant as he handed the pad over to her, she nodded and got to work. “Velkran, the bounty hunters are ours. Every single one of them gets a new assignment. Twenty million credits to the one who brings Xanatos in alive, make the instructions very clear, Obi-Wan is not to be harmed, or they will feel my wrath just as keenly as Xanatos.

“I don’t want a single planet, spaceport or moon to be safe for this worm. He will not refuel, he will not resupply, he will not be able to breath a lick of real air without me knowing about it.”

His crew got to work, hands moving furiously over keys and controls as they each worked on the section of Avaru’s network - a network that just grew larger for each of them, as the true extent of it was revealed - to mobilise everyone that they could. Governments were contacted, ones that were in Avarus’ pocket, or owed him their allegiance, and sent out their own spies. The Queen and King to Takodana scrambled their deep space scouts from the mid rim, and started searching. He even dangled the prospect of freedom in front of slave colonies and told them to report anything they saw. 

He had to be patient, wait until his network began to turn up results, even a network like his would not be instant, would have to wait until Xanatos needed to refuel. He wouldn’t be on a large ship, they attracted too much attention, which meant that if he was in constant motion, as Avarus suspected that he would be, then any small ship would be burning through fuel. It shouldn't be long before he had to stop somewhere, and then they would be after him. 

He spared a single thought for Dooku, apparently innocent, down in the brig, beaten and bloodied. He would never let him go, and all he regretted was the time he had lost thinking it was him who was responsible. Even if it hadn’t been him, it was only a matter of time until it was. He had done an awful job of keeping his Obi-Wan safe, and that changed now. Every threat was going to be removed from the board. 

It took two days before they received good intel, and Avarus was itching out of his skin. He had received two more transmissions of Obi-Wan being beaten by Xanatos, the videos enough to make his fury threaten the integrity of the ship every time before he managed to calm himself, to store his anger like a ticking bomb. 

Even with good intel, they were playing catch up, working on sightings, no one having managed to track the ship or stop it from moving on again. Apparently there were no people on board, and only droids came out to order the refuel. They only knew it was the right one from the serial number having been caught by the one spaceport Xanatos had stepped out on, when his droid attempting to make a bad bacta deal had been destroyed. 

On the third day, Avarus received a transmission from Sidious; he had known that mobilising his network, word would get back to the emperor that something was wrong. But he ignored it, he would deal with the fanatical sith later, in whatever way seemed best. In whatever way would keep Obi-Wan the safest. 

The truth was that Sidious’ network was nothing like his own, and he had been careful over the years, to make sure his network was loyal to - and terrified of - him, not the emperor. Sidious wouldn’t catch him unless he wanted to be caught, though he had little doubt the emperor was moving on Oleserra as soon as he failed to receive an answer. Avarus contacted his most trusted men there, gave them order Sigma Nine; move, destroy, encrypt, run.

His men were well trained, and there was nothing on Oleserra that could be used to catch up with them anyway. Sidious was as held back by the limits of hyperdrive tracking as Avarus was. 

On the fifth day Avarus’ heart hammered, his bond screaming as he received a new kind of video. Obi-Wan was still injured and beaten, but looked as though he had received more medical care than usual. The collar was still around his neck but he was out of the cell, and he was doing a kata; sloppy without the force and with his injuries, but unmistakable, as Xanatos stalked around what was  _ his _ . 

“Your form is wanting,  _ padawan _ ,” Xanatos growled, and Avarus felt nails digging into his heart. Xanatos struck Obi-Wan and then drew him back up to standing with a lecherous hand on his chin. Avarus would break every single bone in his hand. One by one. “Again!”

“Yes master, sorry master,” Obi-Wan said, his voice convincing, so convincing that even though Avarus knew, he  _ knew _ that his Obi-Wan would only be trying to manipulate Xanatos, something in him filled with foriegn anxiety, his bond made a noise inside him like a wounded animal, and the hurt throbbing from it increased tenfold. 

“You see Avarus. He never wanted you, he never cared for  _ you _ . All you little slut wants is to be trained, and he’ll take it from whoever will give it. Isn’t that right, little rat?”

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan said, his voice emotionless as he moved through the steps of a kata. He preferred it to seeing Obi-Wan beaten bloody, but his bond could scarcely cope with what it was seeing, and it railed wildly against him, felt as if it were wrapping around his spine and pulling.

He trusted his Obi-Wan, trusted that he was trying to find a way to survive Xanatos’ wild moods, trying to buy time, to escape on his own. But it didn’t change what he was seeing and hearing and the knee-jerk response his soul had to it. It didn’t change that his severed soul bond was starving, struggling to survive without its other half, causing him more pain with every moment that passed, and now saw his Obi-Wan calling someone else master. 

The sixth day was worse somehow. Obi-Wan had a fresh black eye and Xanatos seemed to be in a furious mood, his mask gone and wretched face on full display. He should have killed him, should have melted both his eyes, should have pushed him out an airlock and torn out his throat. He watched Obi-Wan get beaten like he had when he was in the cell, but he also watched Obi-Wan call Xanatos master over and over, try to be good for him, flatter the disgusting creature before him in any way he could. 

He watched as Obi-Wan - his clever, clever Obi-Wan - asked sweetly for Xanatos’ help, stroked his ego to calm his hysterical moods. He said that he hadn’t loved Avarus, that it had been an act to get what he wanted, and Avarus knew it wasn’t true a soul bond could never have grown between them if such a thing was true. Every word was a relief as it calmed Obi-Wan’s deranged captor, but also like a knife to his half of the bond, slicing and cutting at it until it was in tatters and barely holding on, pushed to its limit, reacting to what it was seeing in a pure, reflexive way, making Avarus feel as though his insides were being scraped away. 

By the seventh day Avarus was almost blind with pain, could barely move, but he had to, he had to get to the bridge and continue his search. It was the death rattle of the bond, his entire being out of sync with itself as something inside him slammed against his every wall screaming out in pain. Enough pain that he was almost dizzy with it, the kind of pain that wouldn’t be released to the force. The bond was unravelling inside of him and felt as though it was unravelling him too. He was a mess, his hair was unravelling, his clothes dirty and frayed as the darkness around him constantly pulled against them. 

He looked gaunt, exhausted, like a shadow-shrouded spectre moving wildly around his own ship. He thought his heart was going to stop at any moment, it wasn;t beating right, he had to find Obi-Wan today or it was going to be too late, he knew it in his very core, the force around him was screaming almost as loudly as the stabbing pain in his head and behind hid eyes. 

Another transmission. He knew he shouldn’t watch it, that it made it worse every time, could well destroy him, be too much for him in this moment. But he couldn’t help it, and he clicked play. 

Obi-Wan’s nose was bleeding, and there were deep bags around his eyes that made Avarus feel sick to his core. Xanatos was circling him, laying a filthy hand on his padawan’s shoulders as he did, and something inside Avarus teetered on the edge of a cliff as he heard Obi-Wan call Xanatos master again. 

“He is such a good little rat, Avarus, I finally understand why you liked him so much. He’s mine now, he’ll never be yours again, isn't that right, rat?” Xanatos taunted, and dark spots began to blot through Avarus’ vision, the metal of the ship creaking again. 

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan replied, and Avarus could feel himself crashing off that cliffs edge, about to be entirely broken, entirely consumed, when his eyes registered Obi-Wan’s movements. 

It was no standard kata. The fog cleared just an inch, and he focused himself on the screen, gasping as he watched Obi-Wan move through the steps of the Tilara Kimara, the kata Avarus had made for him, the light of his heart. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes were fixed on the camera, his hands reaching out towards the lense and in every stretch of his arm and curve of his body he told Avarus one clear message: I love you, I will always love you, master. 

Qui-Gon’s half of the soul bond soared, like wings lifted him up from his fall and he felt renewed with strength, the pain diminishing for now as he heard his padawan loud and clear.

“Lord Avarus!” Gardan said. “An agent on Hays Minor has secured a tracker on Xanatos’ ship. We have him.” On the viewscreen, the image of Obi-Wan was replaced with a red dot, disappearing from the Otomok system and reappearing in the Kowak system, the blinking red light undiminished. 

A feral smile spread out over Avarus’ face. 

“Prepare for a hunt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> Only two chapters to go, which is kind of sad really, but see you next time which might be tomorrow or might be wednesday depending on how manic my work day is (it's deadline day for the magazine rip) <3 i hope you're still enjoying, and I hope that chapter wasn't Too Much (⊙△⊙✿)


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best <3
> 
> Oh boy, there is only one chapter left friends, just the epilogue to go ;_; your support has been astonishing throughout this <3

Reading and managing Xanatos’ turbulent moods was like spinning a hundred plates, and Obi-Wan couldn’t use the force to help. What bothered him not at all one day, would send him into a screaming rage the next; what worked to distract him in the morning, would make him angry and more focused in the afternoon. 

Obi-Wan felt like he was balancing precariously on a thin, wobbling rope above a gaping maw, ready to swallow him whole if he made one wrong move. 

It was better since he had convinced Xanatos to let him out of his cell. His quality of life had no doubt improved, he was still expected to sleep there, but he was able to stretch his legs and he was able to get a better sense of the amount of time that was passing as his days were given more substance. 

He received more food as well and better medical care than he had since he’d been dragged onto this ship - medical care that he desperately needed. Though no amount of bacta was going to do anything to help the mounting pain in his chest. It felt like it was ripping, even the strongest bindings had a limit if they were pulled too hard or too far, and Obi-wan could feel the one inside of him beginning to give. 

He had no idea what happened if soul bonds broke. The only one they had ever been told about in the temple was a training bond, all other kinds were forbidden, after all. But it felt like it could kill him, the feeling in his chest felt as though it could rip him apart at the seams, like the layers of muscle around his heart were being slowly peeled back and shredded until only a paper-thin, fragile thing remained. 

But he had no choice but to ignore it as best he could, and the knot of anxiety that curdled and twisted in his gut whenever he thought of the consequences of it breaking. Xanatos couldn’t know that the soul bond existed, it would destroy the fiction currently getting him medical care and out of his cell, which meant that Obi-Wan could permit himself to appear in no more pain than Xanatos expected him to be. 

Katas and drills were harder to do without the assistance of the force - and Obi-Wan was careful not to push to have his collar removed, a broken arm taught him that lesson fast - and they were made harder still by the weakness of his body, from hunger and injury. When he stumbled or failed to hold a form sometimes Xanatos would laugh, other times he would grow angry and lash out; perceiving it as evidence that Obi-Wan should never have replaced him. 

Unable to grasp that Obi-Wan didn’t replace him at all, because Xanatos had been nothing to Qui-Gon in the first place. 

Obi-Wan’s skin crawled when he called Xanatos master and his bond whimpered when he did it while the camera was on him. He knew where Xanatos was sending the videos, who he was making sure saw them, but there was nothing Obi-Wan could do but hope Qui-Gon trusted him, trusted their bond. 

He had been relieved when he had been able to do the Tilara Kimara, having realised fairly quickly into his farce of a training regime, that Xanatos didn’t know all of the official forms, so he would not notice if Obi-Wan performed one that was not. He hoped it reassured Qui-Gon, even if his form was sloppy without the force and he stumbled more than once; it was a message more than it was a kata. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan said as he finished his final drill - a drill that was pointless to do without a saber, but even Xanatos wasn’t fool enough to just hand him a weapon. 

“What rat?” Xanatos demanded impatiently, his eyes narrowed. It was unsettling to watch the way he oscillated between trusting Obi-Wan’s ruse and a suspicion so thick it blanketed his entire being, written in the squint of his eye, tightening of his thin shoulders and thinning of his ruined lips. Obi-Wan preferred it when he wore his mask. Xanatos was more predictable when he wore his mask. 

“I was wondering if I might be able to have a bed tonight. My cell is small and cramped, leaves me stiff for most of the day. I know I could be doing better for you during the day master, that might help me perform better for you,” Obi-Wan said. 

It was a risk, a request that could just as easily throw Xanatos into a mistrustful rage as it might gain him something. But he needed to make faster progress, the decay of their bond seemed to have stalled for now, but he had no way of knowing how long that respite would last, and he needed to make better progress than he was, needed to help his real master track him down. 

“You have certainly been lacking,” Xanatos replied, taking great pleasure in the scorn. Obi-Wan downcast his eyes and hunched his shoulders. 

“I am sorry master.”

“A larger room will be found,” Xanatos said, his hand dropping to Obi-Wan’s face and holding his chin, forcing eye contact. It was such an echo of a gesture Qui-Gon had made so many times that it turned his stomach; Qui-Gon’s touch had always been welcome against his skin, Xanatos’ felt like an invasion, even more so than the violent strikes against him ever could. “And you will do better. I won’t put up with more disappointments, little rat,” Xanatos threatened, holding his chin in a pinching grip. 

Obi-Wan was fairly sure it was an empty threat, Xanatos was too in love with the idea that he was hurting Qui-Gon in a deeper way. But regardless of his intentions here, Xanatos was more than capable of killing Obi-Wan in a rage, and he well knew it. 

“I won’t let you down, master,” Obi-Wan murmured, looking up at Xanatos through his lashes. Xanatos’ expression turned to a scowl and he shoved Obi-Wan aside roughly. 

“I suppose at least I now know what sure what Avarus saw in you, and it wasn’t any talent for the force,” Xanatos spat, squeezing Obi-Wan’s chin and looking at him with a lecherous, one-eyed gaze that set Obi-Wan’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t even access the force right now, of course he was failing. He was relieved when Xanatos spoke again. “Get out of my sight. I am sick of seeing you,” he said, and Obi-Wan lowered his gaze again and left the room. 

He knew that he was only permitted to go back to his cell, it had never been said but it didn’t need to be told. Cut off from the force and without a weapon Obi-Wan had no desire to test the limits of his newfound ‘freedom’. 

He sat cross legged and was careful not to look like he was meditating, whenever Xanatos saw him doing something he considered to be a jedi practice he lashed out. There was a barely healed laceration on Obi-Wan’s thigh that could attest to it. Some time later - always hard to gauge in the cell - he was locked back inside and felt the familiar cadence of the ship landing, most likely to refuel or gathered supplies. The gash on Xanatos’ face had been weeping a disgusting, fetid yellow pus, and it was possible he needed more than simple bacta to try and fix his face. Not that there was a single hospital anywhere in the galaxy he would be safe to enter. 

As he sat there on the hard floor, Obi-Wan thought about his next steps. If he could just get the collar off, his master might be able to use the bond to locate him, or at least it might ease the pain in his chest, stop the risk of a true break. And if the collar was gone, he would at least have the comfort of the force back with him, would no longer be entirely helpless. But it was not going to be an easy thing to convince Xanatos to do, and every approach carried risks. 

He was pulled from the cell a second time that day, summoned for Xanatos’ amusement back to the bridge. The ship was not large and Obi-Wan was left to make his own way to Xanatos, there was nothing he could have done on to escape, his every move was monitored, and not a single system or droid on the ship was programmed to respond to him - quite the opposite, in fact. 

Xanatos was agitated when he arrived, hunched and maskless, and one of two chairs that sat in the room was broken into pieces on the floor. Xanatos snarled at him, his lips unable to close and leaving his teeth on show, face crusted in places with dried up remnants of that yellow pus.

“Master,” Obi-Wan said carefully, standing as straight and unobtrusively as he could. It occurred to him that he may have been called to the room purely for a beating; there was no camera set up, which was at least a small blessing. 

“Katas. Do them,” Xanatos ordered, a pleasant surprise as Obi-Wan had expected to be on the receiving end of something but harsher, but it felt like a trap somehow. 

Obi-Wan was proven correct when after his first imperfect form, caused by the collar chafing his neck and the lack of help balancing from the force, Obi-Wan stumbled. He slipped down onto one of his knees, bashing it against the floor and jarring the cap hard on impact, making him hiss. He didn’t even have time to get back to his feet because Xanatos was shouting and Obi-Wan was whipped around the head with the hilt of Xanatos’ saber. 

“You’re a worthless, pathetic little rat! You can’t even hold a form, what good are you!” Xanatos screamed, before his voice took on an extra edge of nastiness. “As if we both know the only thing you’re really good for.”

Each blow sent blunt pain ringing through his head, his hair was growing damp with blood again, adding to the dry, crusted mess that he had never been able to wash out effectively in the small sink he had been given access to. Xanatos hit a different spot each time and on the third blow, he was sure he was about to be beaten to a bloody pulp - if not to death - right there and then, after having failed to realise how on edge Xanatos was. But as quickly as they had started, the hits to his head stopped and Xanatos straightened. 

“Try again, padawan,” he said, calmly now, as if his metal saber wasn’t currently smeared with Obi-Wan’s blood. 

On shaky legs, his balance even more impared by the way his head was spinning, Obi-Wan got back to his feet. He was taking deep breaths to try and steady himself as he tried to continue with the kata, his movements were unwieldy and sloppy, but Xanatos didn’t comment on it, prowling around Obi-Wan in an intrusive circle. 

He stumbled again, faster this time, as soon as he attempted to balance on one foot his spinning head sent him overbalancing and catching himself on his hands and knees. He heard Xanatos growl, kept his head bent down and waited for whatever Xanatos saw fit to do. Submitting to it usually meant that the rage fizzled out of Xanatos faster. Usually.

“Why should I even keep you around,” Xanatos sneered, taking Obi-Wan by the throat, above his collar and forcing his gaze up to Xanatos’ disquieting face. “I lack the motivation Avarus had when it comes to you, rat. And I’m not even convinced that you truly hate him.”

Xanatos shoved him back to the floor, reaching for his saber and holding it close enough to the exposed skin of Obi-Wan’s neck above the collar that he could feel his skin beginning to burn and bubble. Obi-Wan’s heart thundered in his chest, he was one wrong move away from Xanatos removing his head from his shoulders. He couldn’t get back to Qui-Gon if he was dead.

“I would perform better for you, without the collar, master,” Obi-Wan said, as unassumingly as possible, on his knees at Xanatos’ feet with his head bowed, fighting against his every instinct and reflex to move away from the blade burning his neck. 

“You’d like that. Wouldn’t you, rat. But where is the evidence that you’re really  _ mine _ ?” Xanatos bit out and Obi-Wan swallowed down his fear, suppressed the whine of pain threatening to slip out from his lips from the blade. 

He steeled himself, swallowing down the bile trying to rise in his throat, and looked up at Xanatos from under his lashes, reached out a hand to touch Xanatos’ thigh as he towered over him. 

“Avarus means nothing to me, you are my only master,” Obi-Wan said, making his voice sweet and wanting to claw the skin off his bones. It was a suggestion only, one he hoped appealed to Xanatos’ vanity - crumbled but not dead - stroked more part of his ego than Obi-Wan usually did. 

There was a pause as Xanatos looked at him with renewed hunger, no doubt coveting something that was Qui-Gon’s far more than anything else. The lightsaber wavered, Xanatos faltered, and then his face broke into fury, screwing up and stretching his face so much that his wound reopened in three places. 

“YOU THINK I WANT YOUR PITY,” Xanatos screamed, louder than Obi-Wan had ever heard him before, and Obi-Wan felt like a wall slammed into his chest as a wave of solid force threw him backwards across the room, his back crunching into a console. “YOU THINK I NEED A DISGUSTING LITTLE RAT LIKE YOU TO PITY ME.” 

The entire room was spinning, but Obi-Wan could see Xanatos thundering towards him, red saber lit beside him still, dragging along the floor and leaving a dark mark in the metal floor. He scrambled up into a sitting position, feeling safer than prone on the ground but knowing that if he stood up he would only fall over again. There was nothing he could do to defend himself, not without his own saber and cut off from the force, Xanatos was going to slice through him like he was warm butter. 

The bridge seemed even smaller than it had a moment ago as Xanatos ate up the space between them. Obi-Wan was sure he was about to die, and spared a fleeting thought that he was glad for the force collar blocking his bond with Qui-Gon, was glad that his master wasn’t about to feel him die. 

Obi-Wan was watching the red blade, steeling himself as best he could without the comfort of the force for the blow he knew was coming, he hoped Xanatos’ rage would make it quick, stop him from being able to draw it out at least. He was always more volatile without his mask, Obi-Wan never should have taken such a risk. 

But then Xanatos clicked the saber off, and instead of that burning blade carving through him, instead Obi-Wan only felt the metal hilt crash across his face. He felt his nose break, more of his blood decorate Xanatos’ saber, Xanatos hit him again and Obi-Wan felt the bone around his left eye break as well, and then Xanatos took him by the throat and shook him violently, making his blaring head feel like it was rattling around in his skull. 

Xanatos’ fingers, his jagged nails, were biting into the skin of his throat, jamming into the fresh burn there and making Obi-Wan struggle in his grip to try and get free, only to be shook more, until he was limp from the thumping pain in his head. Xanatos was choking him with more intent, Obi-Wan starting to thrash and panic as his air was cut off, beginning to go lightheaded. 

As Obi-Wan thrashed and struggled, Xanato’s anger vanished as suddenly as it had formed, and was replaced with a gleeful bout of laughter. 

“Well, I guess I really do know that you are just a whore now, little rat, I almost pity Avarus for how fooled you had him, when you’re ready to spread those legs for anyone,” Xanatos laughed, his hand unrelenting on Obi-Wan’s throat, and he slipped into unconscious.

Obi-Wan was surprised to wake up at all, let alone on a bed. It was shabby, makeshift and threadbare, but a relief compared to the too small floor of the cell. He was in a room, small really but feeling enormous when compared to where he had been spending most of his time, there as even a basin in the room. The force told him that the door was even unlocked - 

Obi-Wan shot upright in the bed, his head hammering and making him wince, but he wouldn’t be distracted. His hands flew to his neck and found raw skin but no collar, and Obi-Wan swallowed thickly as he reached out tentatively to the force and felt it rush back to greet him, like water rushing in to fill an open space. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Obi-Wan whimpered, feeling like he had been suffocating for days but could finally breath again. The light swaddled him, sunk into his very bones and gripped on to his every atom, supporting him and bolstering him. And then the dark, a small wisp of it falling like a blanket over his shoulders, like a familiar touch that he missed with a physical ache. 

His bond hurt less, though not by much, and swallowing thickly Obi-Wan closed his eyes and fought his way into meditation, relaxing his mind as best he could in his current situation. Meditation was like a balm, and with the force to help him, Obi-Wan was able to pick up the threads of the bond, and felt down it, to the fraying edges. 

It felt like he was standing on the edge of a crumbling bridge, and calling out across foggy water, blindly hoping that there was someone still standing on the other side of the broken arch. He called out down their bond, again and again until he felt raw with the silence answering him, he could feel the distance between them, too far, far too far, and the bond, reinforced by the removal of the collar, but still struggling to survive at all. 

He felt himself shake with the effort as he called out down their bond again and his heart skipped a beat when he felt something in return. Not words, they were too far from each other for words - it was a miracle their bond was even alive still - but he could feel Qui-Gon all the same. He could feel a tumultuous mix of love, desperation, hope and fear, and Obi-Wan drew every one of the emotions into him, cradled them in his chest like the precious things they were. 

He couldn’t sustain the effort of the connection any longer, and slumped back against the bed, dropping out of his meditation and breathing heavily, a sweat having gathered on his brow. His master was looking for him, and their bond would survive a little longer, now that Obi-Wan’s connection to the force had been returned. He only had to stay calm, to stay wary of Xanatos’ moods and stay alive.

He felt his neck again, the skin was covered in sores from the suppression collar, and the air cold air stung them as much as it soothed them, but he was free - or at least, freer. 

He hadn’t expected Xanatos to remove it, not after the explosion of anger his ill attempt at coyness had bought him. He’d expected to be dead. But apparently his attempt at flirtation had had the desired effect; while it had turned Obi-Wan’s stomach, it had convinced his captor that he held no love for Qui-Gon. 

But Xanatos’ decisions seemed to be just as unpredictable as his moods, and Obi-Wan had his soothing connection with the force back, although he was still very much trapped on the ship. The ship was fitted with cameras, and droids monitored them near-constantly, the chances of him managing to do so much as leave Qui-Gon a breadcrumb without getting caught and killed was nearly nil. 

He knew what Qui-Gon would want him to do: stay alive until he could find him. And Obi-Wan believed that he would be found, that Qui-Gon would come for him, that he would never give up. But he also knew what Xanatos was doing, the way they were barely pausing between hyperspace jumps - how Xanatos was paying for fuel Obi-Wan had no idea. Even if his master discovered what ship they were on, and one of his many agents caught sight of them, Xanatos would make sure they were long gone before anyone could act on that information, and they would be lost to the expanse of space again. 

If their bond was older and more durable, Obi-Wan might be able to use it to communicate with Qui-Gon, but it wasn’t, and he never had any clue where they were anyway. He could feel himself growing frustrated at the lack of a clear path in front of him, and stiffly tried to release that emotion to the force. He should be glad of his progress, and without the collar, Xanatos was more likely to be able to sense his moods, now that his force signature was not being ruthlessly blocked. 

When he was feeling calmer, resolved to simply continue to stay alive until either his master found him, or an opportunity to escape presented itself - Obi-Wan decided to take the unlocked door as an invitation. He walked through the halls of the ship, trying to get a better feel of it’s layout than he had been given on his short walk from his cell to wherever Xanatos had wanted to torment him that day. 

It was a small ship, which meant one single exit, and it felt crowded with the number of droids moving around. He pointedly didn’t look at what he believed was the ship’s exit, nor did he attempt to interact with any of the droids. Xanatos was a paranoid creature, and one wrong move could set him off - and Obi-Wan wasn’t naive enough to think he wasn’t being watched. 

If he rushed anything, he was only going to end up collared and back in the cell, if not worse. 

Xanatos wasn’t on the bridge, and Obi-Wan decided not to seek him out, instead settling into one of the chairs, with his hands carefully folded into his lap, he worked on his force manipulation, pleased when his time in the collar didn’t seem to have decayed his abilities. He felt it when Xanatos entered the bridge, a disturbed ripple running through the force, and he continued his exercise, using fine control of the force to disassemble a communicator. 

Xanatos looked at him but said nothing, and with his mask back in place, Obi-Wan couldn’t read his expression well. He felt unsettled in the force, but Xanatos always felt unsettled in the force, so that told Obi-Wan little. Obi-Wan risked a glance at the bridge controls, and saw they were in the Myto Sector; still in the outer rim then, though for all he knew they were jumping wildly between the mid and outer rim. 

The next two days were strange. Xanatos trained him, he still had little idea what he was doing but Obi-Wan didn’t let the aimless ‘teaching’ show on his face and bolstered Xanatos’ ego in all the ways he had learned worked best. Xanatos didn’t lash out at him at all on the first day, which was at first a relief, but became its own point of concern, so out of the character for the volatile man that Obi-Wan began to wonder what had changed. 

He bid Obi-Wan to eat with him, and for a sick moment Obi-Wan was sure he was going to be forced to eat from his hand or sit at his feet, as he had been seen doing for Qui-Gon so many times. But Xanatos did neither of those things. He wasn't talkative, and he scowled at Obi-wan throughout their meal, while Obi-Wan waited for a shoe that never dropped that evening. 

He learned fast not to watch Xanatos eat, his burned away lips that didn’t entirely cover his teeth anymore made it a messy, animalistic spectacle, and the one time Xanatos had noticed him watching, he had snarled and stabbed his dinner knife into the table a scant millimetre away from Obi-Wan’s hand. But he left dinner and returned to his new room unscathed.

It was almost a relief the next day when he asked a simple question about his training for the day - something he had asked many times before - and Xanatos flew into a rage. He tried to send force lightning out of his fingers to strike Obi-Wan with, but a pathetic spark was all he managed, not even close to strong enough in the force to do such a thing. It amplified his rage, and Obi-Wan could do nothing but try to protect his face with his forearms as Xanatos took out his rage against him. 

It took Obi-Wan almost another full day for him to realise what had Xanatos so on edge, and when he realised it, he felt his heart clench in his chest. They were making more hyperspace jumps than they had before, the familiar whir-jerk of the ship happening more often, hardly any space between them, fuel stops becoming raggedly fast.

At first Obi-Wan thought that the jumps were a symptom of Xanatos’ furious mood, but he realised they were the cause when just before another jump was made, Obi-Wan’s aching, wilting half of the bond perked up, tugged at his chest as a faint but undeniable  _ Obi-Wan _ came through their bond, as if it was shouted at the top of Qui-Gon’s lungs, but from too far away to be seen. 

Obi-wan clamped down hard on his expression, keeping it neutral as his heart rate skyrocketed. He used every technique the jedi had ever taught him to keep his emotions down and stop them from being readily noticeable in his force signature as Xanatos swore and raged at the console as he slammed buttons, and the ship jumped again. 

Qui-Gon had found a way to track them, he was sure of it. It was why they were making so many jumps, it was why Xanatos’ mood had soured so completely. Xanatos was keeping them ahead, but only just, only by a few hours, which in the grand scheme of space travel, was nothing. Barely enough time to refuel a ship, let alone pick up supplies from anywhere. 

All he needed to do was slow them down as his master would reach them. He had the force back with him, he was no longer helpless or defenceless, but Xanatos was armed and he was not, and Obi-Wan was viscerally aware that even with a saber, he had proved recently that he wasn’t easily able to best Xanatos in a duel.

He eyed Xanatos’ own saber, hanging on his belt, wondered if he would be fast enough to use the force to snatch it before Xanatos was able to react. Xanatos’ own control over the force had been made erratic by his volcanic emotions, but when the force did react to him, it do so with explosive force, so Obi-Wan tried a different tactic. 

“Master, why are we making so many jumps?” Obi_Wan asked, as innocently as possible, still fiddling with the datapad in his hands, as if his question really were only a passing curiosity. Xanatos shot him a suspicious glance, his one visible, working eye narrowing at him.

“That is none of your concern,” Xanatos snapped, his hands tight on the control column, his knuckles turning white. 

“Of course master. It is only if there is some problem with the hyperdrive I might be able to fix it. I’m good at astro-engineering,” Obi-Wan lied, he had never even looked at the bare hyperdrive on a ship like this before. Xanatos curled his lip. 

“You’re not good at anything, rat,” Xanatos spat as if on reflex. “The engine is perfectly fine, and you should be grateful we’re moving so fast.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan asked, still feigning his own innocence.

“It’s none of YOUR CONCERN!” Xanatos’ voice rose to a wild shout, the ship veering oddly as his hands pulled at the steering, but Obi-Wan kept himself steady with the force. 

“I apologise, master.”

“You should know your place,” Xanatos spat. “Or I will just send you out an airlock for Avarus to find and do what he pleases with. I wonder what he’ll do with you now he knows the truth.”

“Avarus is chasing us?” Obi-Wan asked, knowing it was risky to push, but he needed to slow Xanatos down to give his master what he needed to catch them. He was careful to make himself sound alarm, to let some false panic seep into his signature, pleased when Xanatos smirked.

“Does that scare you? He’ll rip you apart for the way you’ve humiliated him,” Xanatos laughed, just a solitary chuckle at first that built and built into some kind of deranged cackle.

“We have to get away from him!” Obi-Wan shouted, moving with fast, jerky movements over to the copilot’s chair as Xanatos’ laughter increased before stopping abruptly.

“DON’T YOU THINK I HAVE BEEN TRYING!” The force wrapped itself around Obi-Wan’s neck, sudden and tight, making him choke and struggle as the hold carried on and Xanato started muttering under his breath. “He can’t be tracking us, I’ve been careful. I know I’ve been careful. I knew every single one of his agents, EVERY SINGLE ONE! I knew every space station and fuelling port he had eyes in they couldn’t have seen me. I made sure of it. But he is tracking me, he is. He’s on our tail, right on our tail, don’t have time to find out how he’s doing it. He’s going to get us, right on our tail, going to get us, just like with master Flukoa, just like with - ”

A panicked laugh punched it’s way out of Xanatos’ chest and Obi-Wan’s throat was released as Xanatos lost his handle on the force in his ranting. Obi-Wan could hardly breath for the fear Xanatos was smothering the force with, fear mingled with hatred and panic. 

“If we can’t get away then we should face him!” Obi-Wan said, doing his best to sound and feel sacred as Xanatos’ yellow eye fixed on him. “We can take him together.”

“Stupid rat, stupid little rat. You can’t help, you’re pathetic, you couldn’t beat anyone in a duel.”

“I couldn’t beat you,” Obi-wan replied, appealing to Xanatos’ pride. “But I trained with Avarus for months, I know his every move.”

“I’m not giving you a lightsaber, you’re the stupid rat not me.”

“Then I can distract him while you strike. You can do it master, you’re deadly in a fight. Then this beast will be off of our tail, and won’t have to worry about  _ Avarus _ ever again. The whole galaxy will know how weak he was for how he was fooled, and how strong you are for striking him down.”

“Yes. Yes we could do that, I could be free of him,” Xanatos nodded, the plan gaining momentum in his head as his desperation grew and the ship warned them the fuel ws running low.

Xanatos stood abruptly, leaving the ship to drift as he grabbed Obi-Wan’s arm in a bruising grip and dragged him out of the bridge. Xanatos discarded his mask and itched nastily at his face, jagged nails digging into wounds that had never stopped weeping. 

“Can’t wait there. Got to be somewhere he won’t expect,” Xanatos muttered under his breath. He was talking to himself constantly, Obi-Wan mere decoration, and Obi-Wan realised that Xanatos’ mind had already broken, what came next almost didn’t matter, he only had to keep the mad man beside him from killing him and he would be free. He wondered for a brief moment exactly what detail it was that had finally fractured Xanatos’ mind - the fear perhaps, of darth Avarus chasing him down, drawing inexorably closer. 

He shoved Obi-Wan into a small store cupboard and roughly elbowed his way in after, they were pressed together, and Obi-Wan tried to close his nose against the putrid scent of Xanatos’ wounds. 

“Yes. Yes. Master Flukoa said I should hide. She wanted me to hide in the closet when he found us but I didn’t listen did I? No I didn’t listen, should have listened. I’ll do it right this time. We’ll wait right here and then when he is looking for us we’ll ambush him, yes,” Xanatos muttered. He hadn’t let go of Obi-Wan’s arm and it was starting to ache.

Obi-Wan wanted to get away from him, this muttered ranting more unnerving than any of the violence Xanatos had doled out since taking Obi-Wan captive on his ship. He was forgetting basic things, such as how a force user like Avarus would never miss them hiding in here, even with the ship soaked in Xanatos’ signature. He was making the mistakes of a young padawan, and suddenly the vice like grip on his arm felt less controlling, and more like it was clinging to him. 

Xanatos’ muttering didn’t stop. Not for any of the long hour it took for Obi-Wan’s soul bond to gasp for breath again as Qui-Gon suddenly felt so close, so very very close as his ship neared theirs. 

_ Obi-Wan! _ Love and relief was slamming down their bond from both directions, meeting in the middle in an explosive cacophony of bliss na dhunger inside Obi-Wan’s head. Somehow the ache in his chest seemed worse than it ever had before, to have his master so close but not with him, not touching him. 

_ Master! _ Obi-Wan sent back internally, he was tempering his face and his emotions, not that Xanatos seemed to be in any state to notice a single thing about Obi-Wan right now. But the hand not on Obi-Wan’s arm was wrapped tight around his saber, and Obi-Wan wasn’t confident he could get it off of him. He was so close to being back with his master, he glued himself to the light, to patience, tried to project a calming aura into the tight space he was trapped in.  _ We’re on the middle deck, we’re in a closet, hiding. He’s gone mad. _

_ I am coming to Obi-Wan.  _

A clanging sound echoed through the ship as they were harpooned and dragged into the hangar bay of the Deimos. Xanato’s hand gripped his arm tighter, his fingers like iron, and his muttering grew faster, more urgently whispered. Obi-wan tuned him out, and waited for his master. 

“No no no!” Xanatos said suddenly, as Obi-Wan felt his master getting closer and closer, something uncoiling in his chest and building at the same time with every meter they drew closer. “He knows we’re here! He knows we’re here of course he does! Master Flukoa was a fool! A dead fool, a dead fool! We can’t be here, he’ll find me, he’ll find me again. Not like this, don’t want to be hunted, I’m a hunter now, not like this again.”

Xanatos was making little sense, but he opened the door to the store room as suddenly as he had shoved them both inside it, and he pulled Obi-Wan back out with him, his red saber lit. 

“We’ve got to meet him head on, trust me Flukoa, it’ll be different this time. Different, he won’t get me again, you’ll see, you’ll see,” Xanatos said, starting to run. 

He pulled Obi-Wan along with him, but was unable to maintain his grip as his momentum built and he began to barrel wildly down the corridor, shouting _not again not again_ _different this time_ over and over at the top of his lungs. He didn’t notice as Obi-Wan dropped back, let the distance between them grow to a meter or two. 

They were headed towards Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan could sense exactly where he was as the bond ripped it’s way back into life, stronger and stronger with every step. Xanatos started barrelling down another corridor, and Obi-Wan stopped in its mouth, waiting one, two seconds, until Qui-Gon appeared at the other end. 

His eyes locked onto his master’s and he felt his soul sing, days and days of pain and hurt being soothed, the ends of their bond knitting itself back together so desperately that Obi-Wan almost fell to his knees with the sheer relief of it, the straining race of his heart finally settling, before racing for a new - but familiar - reason. His master looked magnificent, strong and roiling with the force. 

Xanatos had been jumping through hyperspace every day, but Qui-Gon had still found him.

Xanatos ground to a halt, heaving with breath as Avarus filled up the corridor with his dark fury. He was flanked by a huge cloud of black, taking Obi-Wan;s breath away with his power as he physically manifested the force, like an old god taming the sea.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, soft but audible despite the corridor between them, and the trapped creature between them. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan smiled, he felt stronger than he ever had before, despite the bruises and injuries still littering his body. Their bond was slamming into him, he felt like he was sharing Qui-Gon’s energy, and with a steady breath, he invited the light back inside of him, let it rush in and mingle with the darkness Qui-Gon was using to bolster him. 

It filled his every pore, joined with the rapturous bond beating inside of him, and the corridor seemed lighter suddenly. His master was beaming at him, and Obi-Wan looked around himself and saw pure white around him, not as overwhelming as his master’s dark cloud, but there all the same. Qui-Gon had said it to him before, awe in his voice, but Obi-Wan finally understood the implication; their bond was perfect balance.

Qui-Gon pulled something from his belt - Obi-Wan’s saber - and with a reach of his hand and pull of the force, Obi-Wan had it racing back towards him. It sailed past Xanatos, and his eyes tracked it, a look of pure confusion washing over his face as he watched it reach Obi-Wan’s waiting hand. 

“M-master Flukoa?” He said hesitantly, and Obi-Wan finally pitied him.

He watched panic fill Xanatos’ mangled face as he lit his blue saber, and on the other end of the corridor, Qui-Gon lit his red one. Xanatos was trapped, no way to escape, and he knew it. 

They started to advance fast on Xanatos, perfectly in the centre of the corridor. Obi-Wan expected him to light his own saber, to frantically fight to save his own life, but instead Xanatos started laughing, cackling, a throaty, deranged sound that shook his entire body. He dropped his saber and started clawing at himself; his face, his arms, his neck,  _ again again again _ he was shouting. 

The twisted laughter was silenced suddenly, as the arc of a red saber took off his head at the same moment Obi-Wan’s blue tore through Xanatos’ quaking middle. It was quick, quicker than he deserved and Obi-Wan had no doubt they had both imagined it being slow, taking revenge as they saw fit. 

But this was better. Xanatos’ body dropped in pieces to the floor along with the two sabers that had done it as Obi-Wan threw himself bodily into Qui-Gon's arms.

His master caught him, held him in a tight embrace as they both panted wildly, his master drawing back moments later so that he could claim Obi-Wan’s lips in a possessive, desperate kiss. Around them the light and dark fused like a perfect dawn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the epilogue, should be done Friday/Saturday, the updates slowed a little this week because of a number of factors, but we got here <3
> 
> They're going to get horny in the last chapter, very horny, because it wouldn't be true to the heart of this fic if it didn't. So that being said, feel free to let me know what particular kind of horn you want to see in the comments and (I make no guarantees but) I will try to see as many of them done as I can.
> 
> See you in a couple of days u fabulous people o(╥﹏╥)o *hamilton's one last time plays in the distance*


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, here we are. I know I have said it on almost every chapter, but the crazy response to this fic and beautiful, encouraging words from so many of you is what made this possible, so thank you, thank you thank you thank you. How do you write 200k in less than two months? You have the best cheer squad in the world to help you along the way <3
> 
> I procrastinated this last chapter because I was sad that it was going to be over, but here it is, I hope you enjoy it (◠‿◠✿)
> 
> A special thank you to my lovely vic, without whom this fic would not exist at all; I hope you’re feeling better soon my dear, and I hope you like the ending, this labour of love was written for you <3

Qui-Gon’s hands were cupping his face so gently is made Obi-Wan’s chest ache, he knew he was painted with bruises, but Xanatos had been treating his wounds better since he took off the collar, and had barely laid a hand on him in thirty six hours, even the fracture near his eye was almost entirely healed. 

Their bond was doing something strange as well. It had rekindled itself stronger than it had ever been before, and Obi-Wan could feel his healing accelerate with it, it would be unnatural, were it not for the way it was driven by the force. 

The perfect balance brought about by their bond, the seamless blending of light and dark and all the strength it had to offer, their fiery need to keep each other safe, the inferno of how much they loved and desired each other; it had all fed into him, come together and was racing through him, the force healing him without any active input from either of them. The remnants of pain he had felt from Xanatos’ actions were ebbing away into nothing more than a hum in the back of his mind. Nothing compared to how present his master was, how badly he needed to be close to him. 

His master looked him over, fingers stroking tenderly over discoloured bruises that were fading fast with awe in his eyes before gathering Obi-Wan into his arms, into an encompassing embrace and guiding them both out of Xanatos’ ship, and into the hanger of the Deimos. 

It felt good to be back on the Deimos, back in his home, but Obi-Wan couldn’t spare a single thought about it at first, too consumed by the way Qui-Gon was kissing him, the way his hands felt like they were everywhere at once, so big against his body, his master towering over him, crowding Obi-Wan in the way he loved. 

They were making slow progress through the ship, Qui-Gon was backing him through a corridor but they had only just made it out of the hangar, barely managing a step between their kisses and searching hands. Obi-Wan had no idea where his master’s cloak was, nor his own bloodied cream jacket. 

“Master. Master please, I missed you, I need, I need - ” Obi-Wan panted, voice desperate and words already escaping him, his mind caught on the way Qui-Gon had one possessive hand at the back his neck, and the other gripping his ass hard. 

“I know what you need, pet, my perfect pet, my love,” Qui-Gon purred, biting at Obi-Wan’s jaw, undeterred by the stubble that had grown there in his captivity, nosing against it and letting his own neat beard rub against it.

“Please,” Obi-Wan whimpered again, needlessly. His hands were locked in the lapels of his master’s black suit, wrapping the material with the strength of his grip, determined to never let go again, he wanted to climb inside of his master’s skin and stay there forever.

Obi-Wan whimpered as the hand on his neck dropped to his ass, and using barely a hint of his full strength, his master lifted him up, easily, as if he weighed nothing at all. Obi-Wan moaned, wrapped his legs around his master’s waist and his arms around his neck, seeking out his lips again and falling into needy kisses as he buried his hands in that long hair. 

He didn’t know how he had survived so many days without his master’s kisses. He felt like he was being dominated just from a kiss, that if he only let his master, he would devour him, and Obi-Wan would  _ like _ it. His master’ tongue was pressing against Obi-Wan’s lips, teasing him and reminding him of his master’s taste. He submitted easily, happily, and Qui-Gon fucked his tongue into Obi-Wan’s mouth, relearning his every contour, licking into him as his hands gripped Obi-Wan’s ass tighter, digging into his ass and making him whine. 

The kiss was changing constantly, frantic as they tried to do everything at once, the most uncoordinated kiss they had ever shared, fuelled by their desperation to be together again. His master was sucking on his tongue, biting at his lips, fucking deep into his mouth and locking their lips together at such a speed that Obi-Wan could do nothing but whimper and yield to his master’s encompassing kisses while he rutted his hard cock against his master’s abdomen.

His master was walking, making their way through the ship even as they were lost in one another. Obi-Wan couldn’t have cared less where they were. He would let his master fuck him right here, had many times before, let him simply tug down his clothes and take him in the corridor for anyone to see. He loved it, he wanted everyone to know. Especially after Xanatos, that it didn’t matter who tried to get between them, they would always be together, belong together, that he was his master’s and his master was his. As complete and immutable as the pull of gravity, or the burn of a sun, or the inexhaustible well of the force. 

But he wanted his master inside of him, he wanted to feel his body forced open by his huge cock, he wanted his master’s fingers in his hole, stretching him for his cock, owning him in the most intimate way possible. He wanted to come on his master’s cock over and over and over again, and for that, they needed to get back to their room where their slick was, but knowing that didn’t make Obi-Wan and more patient. 

He pulled at his master’s hair, a thrill going through him at the low growl it pulled from his master, the nip at his lower lip, his master dragging it forward between his teeth, drawing Obi-Wan impossibly closer before releasing him and stealing his breath with another possessive kiss. His master’s hands covered his ass, holding him up so easily and pulling Obi-Wan towards him in tight little hitches, helping Obi-Wan to rut against him, too confined by his pants. 

“Oh pet,” his master murmured in that low voice, biting at Obi-Wan’s ear-lobe. “You’re so desperate aren’t you, it’s been too long for your poor little cock, hasn’t it? You need to come already, don’t you?” His master teased, and Obi-Wan whined, wrapping his arms further around his master’s neck and trying to move his hips faster, he could feel how wet he was already, his cock leaking and making a mess of his underwear. 

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan whimpered, sighing when his master helped him, using his big hands to help Obi-Wan rut. He felt close already, he’d gone too long with his master and he felt on the edge just from a few simple touches. 

“Do you want to come now, pet?” His master asked, they were still in the corridor, their chambers felt like they were miles and miles away as Obi-Wan thought about the time it would take to get there. He gnawed on his lip, filled with indecision, he wanted to come so badly, wanted his master to make him come, but he wanted so much more than that. His master read him like a book, as he always did. “Don’t worry pet, I am going to make you come until you’re exhausted with it, until you're shaking through dry orgasms with a soft little cock because I’ve taken everything you had to give,” he growled and Obi-Wan trembled in his arms, his cock jerking and leaking at his words. 

“Please master, please I want to come, I’m- I’m going to come,” Obi-Wan admitted, a blush rising on his cheeks as he spoke, it had been months since his master had made him come from so little, he had gotten better at waiting, his stamina growing as his body got more and more used to being touched. But it had been too long, and with the soul bond between them he felt as though every sensation was multiplied, feeling it race through his body and then an echo of it down their bond, from his master’s perspective. 

“I know you are, pet,” his master teased, and Obi-Wan’s blush deepened, his master could feel how on edge he was already, just from this. Obi-Wan felt like a live wire, he felt as sensitive as he had the first time his master had ever touched him. “So desperate for me, and that little cock of yours is ready to come already. Do you even need me to touch you, or could you come just like this?” 

“M- _ aster _ ,” Obi-Wan whined. “I want you to touch me, please master, please.”

“Hmm that’s not what I asked was it? I think you could you know, you’re so perfect that you could come just from me talking to you, and you rubbing your desperate little cock against me. But you want me to touch you, don’t you pet.”

“Yes, please touch me master,” Obi-Wan pleaded, he’d missed his hands so much, so firm and commanding, so gentle, possessive on his body. 

“You’re going to come in your pants right here in the corridor, because you were too desperate to wait until we got back to our room,” his master teased, voice low, and still murmuring in Obi-Wan’s ear, his beard scratching deliciously against the sensitive skin of his neck. “You’re still my needy little pet, aren’t you. I’d fuck your pretty little hole right here if I could, maybe tomorrow, I’ll leave you plugged up when we’re finally done, and then tomorrow I’ll fuck you out in the open. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pet?”

“Yes master!” Obi-Wan squealed, blush burning bright. 

His master had paused their walk to press him against a wall, and one of his hands had left Obi-Wan’s ass and was slowly - so so slowly - making it way towards Obi-Wan’s straining cock, tenting his clothes. He stroked his way up Obi-Wan’s back and over his side, across his stomach and paused just above Obi-Wan’s cock. Obi-Wan whined high in his throat and tried to rock up, pushing his hard cock towards his master’s hand, but Qui-Gon just chuckled in a low rumble, and held him tighter. 

“Such a greedy little pet,” his master teased and then he cupped his big hand over Obi-Wan’s cock through his clothes and rubbed him once, twice, and Obi-Wan was coming. 

He let out a high pitched gasp and whined as he came, saying  _ master _ over and over again as he panted and jerked and his master pushed him through every wave of pleasure, growling and biting against Obi-Wan’s neck as he continued to rub Obi-Wan’s cock. His orgasm rocked through him, intense from how long it had been since his last, his hands buried and tangled in Qui-Gon’s hair as his cock dribbled out the last of his orgasm. 

He felt himself going lax, his legs struggling to keep their hold on his master’s waist as his body came down, relaxed for the first time in weeks. But he didn’t slip, his master’s hand coming away from his cock and both moving to hold his thighs, to keep him up, never let him go as he carried Obi-Wan’s limp body down the corridor. 

“You too,” Obi-Wan mumbled, rocking himself was little he could against the large bulge in his master’s pants. “Want you to come too,” Obi-Wan said, wiggling a little in his master’s arms. 

He liked being held like this, being carried, he felt so safe and looked after, but he also wanted to slip to his knees, to take his master’s cock deep into his throat and suck until his mouth was full of his master’s come. 

“And I will, I’m going to come in your tight little hole, stuff you full of my come like you’re supposed to be,” his master promised, claiming Obi-Wan’s lips in another bruising kiss. But it was going to take so long for his master to stretch him thoroughly enough to take his cock. 

“Please master, please. I want you now,” Obi-Wan whined, wriggling in his master’s firm grip, trying futility to get to his knees. 

“ _ Pet _ ,” his master said in warning and Obi-Wan stopped wiggling, but pressed his hand against his master’s tented pants. It was so good, just knowing he was going to have it again was enough to send a shiver through him. 

“Master please, I just want - I wanna.”

“What do you want?” His master asked, even though he  _ knew _ . But he had always liked making Obi-Wan say it, even now saying something so dirty made him flush red. 

“To suck you. Want you in my mouth, I need it master please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, trying to stroke his master’s cock through his pants to try and get what he wanted. 

“Hmm, I don’t know pet, I want to fill your hole up and stuff you full. If I come in your hungry mouth I’ll have less for your tight little bottom,” his master reminded him, and Obi-Wan squirmed, caught between the two things, wanting them both, his spent cock already twitching just thinking about them. 

“M-maybe I could suck you just for a bit?” Obi-Wan asked, he wanted his master in his mouth, forcing his lips wide, but he also loved it when his master pumped him so full of come he was dripping for hours. 

“You’re such a needy little pet. You can’t even wait until we’re in our room,” his master scolded, voice hot, and Obi-Wan’s soft cock twitched as he was put down into the floor, trapped between the wall of the corridor and his master’s body. “So desperate that you’re going to suck my cock right out here in the open.”

“Yes master, please,” Obi-Wan mewled, clumsily getting his master’s pants open and reaching for his thick cock. It felt so good in his hand, so hot and hard that Obi-Wan felt a wave of arousal wash through him, his oversensitive cock trying to get hard again already. 

He would never get over the way his master’s cock was too big for his hand, that he had to use both to stroke him properly, how thick and long he was, his foreskin pulled back and leaving the the bulbous head of his cock exposed. There was one droplet of precome beading on the tip of his cock, nothing like as embarrassingly wet as Obi-Wan got, and Obi-wan leant forward and lapped at it, savouring the salty taste of his master, back on his tongue. 

“Such a good pet,” his master praised, taking hold of his cock and teasing Obi-Wan’s lips with the tip, dragging his cock against his lower lip and not pushing into his mouth just yet. Obi-wan vaguely noticed someone come around the corner, and quickly retreat after seeing Obi-Wan being claimed by his master once more. “Open that pretty little mouth for me, good boy.”

Obi-Wan did as he was told easily, letting his mouth fall open wide and managing to lick at the head of his master’s cock, heat pooling in his tummy as his master chuckled affectionately and slipped his big hand into Obi-Wan’s hair, taking a tight hold. His master pulled him forward and guided his thick cock into Obi-Wan’s mouth. 

Obi-Wan felt his eyes flutter closed as his lips were stretched wide, he’d almost forgotten just how big his master was, his eyes watering as his master’s cock touched the back of his throat and pushed forward. He gripped his master’s hips, swallowing around his cock and breathing steadily through his nose, he could feel his throat bulging, could feel his master’s hot arousal down their bond, until finally his lips met the base of the huge cock in his mouth, nose buried in his master’s thatch of hair. 

“Such a perfect pet,” his master praised, stroking through his hair and letting Obi-Wan enjoy the sensation of having that cock in his mouth, he had missed it more than he would admit, even if he hadn’t had time to think much about it. It calmed him, he could feel something inside of him that had still been full of jitters and off-kilter finally settling. “Both your holes take me so well, don’t they pet?”

“Mmm,” Obi-Wan replied, humming happily around the cock in his mouth and making his master groan and his fingers tighten in his hair. 

“You feel better already, don’t you pet,” his master’s voice was a low rumble and he started to pull his cock back, Obi-Wan trying to chase it, but held in place by the hand in his hair. “I can feel it through our bond, how happy you are like this. You’d stay on your knees with my cock in your mouth forever if I let you, wouldn’t you?” He asked, and Obi-Wan mumbled what he could around his mouthful in affirmative. “Such a good boy.”

Praise dripped from his master’s lips as he started to fuck Obi-Wan’s mouth, pulling his hips back and fucking forward in a gentle roll at first that soon built up to a punishing pace as Obi-Wan whined for more. His cock was hard again already, trapped in his messy pants and aching for attention, but Obi-Wan ignored it, too consumed by the way his master was fucking into his throat, choking him for brief seconds on his cock. 

He sucked hard whenever his master pulled back, tongued at the head of his cock whenever he could, but mostly all he needed to do was relax and let his master use his mouth however he wanted; however they both wanted. It was sloppy, drool was running down his chin as his master moved faster, and he was gripping his master’s hips so tightly it occurred to him that he might be the one about to leave bruises for once. The corridor was filled by the wet sounds of his master using his throat, Obi-Wan’s muffled whines and his master’s groans. 

His master was snapping his hips forwards faster and Obi-Wan knew that he must be close, he knew every sign that his master was nearing the edge, and he made a surprised noise as his master, just as he thought he was about to get a mouthful of hot come, pulled back completely. 

Obi-Wan was hauled to his feet and spun around, pushed up against the metal wall of the hallway as his master pushed his pants down. Obi-Wan moaned in surprise as his ass was bared suddenly and one of his cheeks pulled to the side as his master pressed the fat head of his cock up against his tight hole and stroked himself once, twice, before coming pressed up against him, forcing some of his come inside without breaching him, the rest making a mess of Obi-Wan’s bottom. 

“Such a good pet,” his master praised, voice like gravel and panting against the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. 

Obi-Wan was hard again but his body felt like jelly as the echoes of his master’s orgasm rolled through their bond, he could almost feel more of his bruises healing under his skin as their bond flared happily. He made a happy sound when after a few moments hsi master tucked them both back into their clothes and he was turned again, picked back up in his master’s arms as they continued their journey to their room. 

His master was murmuring to him, and Obi-Wan was sinking into every word as easily as he was sinking into the kisses they were sharing. His master knew his ship well, and with the force, he didn’t need to see where he was going to navigate his way back to their bedroom, and Obi-wan could have sighed with relief when the familiar door opened, and a few moments later he was laid down on their soft bed. 

Obi-Wan’s hands were uncoordinated as he tugged his master out of his clothes, Qui-Gon chuckling when he grew frustrated with the fastenings on his shirt and taking it off himself. His master’s body was so perfect, so much  _ bigger _ than Obi-Wan’s, his chest and shoulders were broad and hard and Obi-Wan wanted to be surrounded by him always.

Qui-Gon stripped Obi-Wan carefully, teasing him for the mess in his pants as they were stripped away first, kissing his hips as they were revealed, and nudging his way between Obi-Wan’s legs, but then his master went quieter, as more skin was revealed to him

His master’s eyes flared as he was bared in front of him, his body awash with a rainbow of bruises in various states of healing; neither he nor Xanatos had ever bothered to give him bacta just for bruises. But Obi-Wan could see how much better they were even just from this morning, yellow and green instead of black and purple as their bond continued its work.

His master’s nostrils were flaring, anger and guilt pouring off of him until Obi-Wan reached out for him, dragged him down until he was caged beneath him, where he loved to be. 

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan said, nudging his nose against his master’s and finding his lips in a kiss, distracting his master. In truth he could barely feel his injuries anymore, ever since he had fallen back into his master’s arms they had become nothing but the barest static, he had to focus on them to even realise that they were still there. 

“You’ve been hurt,” his master said, voice conflicted, hand flexing in its grip against Obi-Wan’s thigh. 

“I can barely even feel it right now,” Obi-Wan replied, threading his hand through his master’s hair, falling like a curtain around them. “Please master, the only thing I want to feel is you.”

“You aren’t in pain?”

“No master, you can feel what I am feeling, do you sense any pain?” Obi-Wan asked, reaching down their bond and coaxing his master into following him, filling up his senses until his master was satisfied that he really wasn’t in any pain at all. 

“No. All I can sense is desire,” his master said, voice heating back up again, the hand on Obi-Wan’s thigh sliding down to Obi-Wan’s knee, pushing his legs wider. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan replied, kissing his master again. “I missed you so much. I want to remember who I belong to.”

His master growled as he ducked forward, kissing Obi-Wan thoroughly as one of his hands found Obi-Wan’s hole, drenched in his master’s come. He felt his master running his fingers through the come painted around his hole, using it to ease the way as he pressed one thick finger inside of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan moaned, his hands moving from his master’s hair to his shoulders, gripping them tight, his nails digging into his master’s skin. 

Qui-Gon swallowed every one of his moans as he pressed that single finger inside of him. Obi-Wan was tighter than he had been since he’d first fallen into his master’s bed, but his body still remembered the touch well, responding so easily to his master as that one finger began opening him up. 

“It’s going to feel so good to be inside you again, pet, nothing will ever compare to you. You take me so well, don’t you?” His master praised as he worked him over, rubbing the pad of his finger over Obi-Wan’s prostate, he knew where it was so well, and Obi-Wan moaned at every press, his cock drooling a pool of precome against his skin again already. “And look at your little cock, pet, no one would think you’d come once already, you’re so greedy.”

“Please master, more,” Obi-Wan pleaded, he knew he could take two of his master’s fingers he wanted them, but his master only chuckled at him. 

“Patience pet, it’s been too long since I had your tight little hole around my fingers, and I’m going to savour every minute of it,” his master promised him, and Obi-Wan tried to grumble out a complaint, only to have it forced into a moan as his master rubbed at his sweet spot again. “I’d almost forgotten how wet your pretty little cock gets.”

“Please, master. I need, I need - ”

“I know what you need pet, you need my cock don’t you? Making your hole sloppy, filling you up with come. You already have my come inside you, but it’s never enough, is it?” His master murmured, using the force to bring the slick to him, and pressing a second, slicker finger against his rim, teasing him. 

“N-no, want more,” Obi-Wan panted, planting his feet on the bed and grinding down against his master’s fingers. 

“You can have anything you want, pet, so long as you’re good,” his master rumbled, Obi-Wan letting out a prolonged moan as his master slowly pressed the second finger inside of his hole. “You feel so good around my fingers, so tight and hot. Like you were made for me, and only me. ”

“Only you. No one else is ever gunna touch me,” Obi-Wan vowed, his words pulling a low growl out of his master, making him scissor his fingers and start stretching him a little faster, his big cock starting to thicken again between his legs.

“That’s right pet, you’re mine,” his master replied, ducking his head down and biting at one of Obi-Wan’s sensitive nipples, making him arch up on the bed, body searching for more as his master chuckled and obliged him. 

His body didn’t know which sensation to focus on, the fingers stretching his ass and pressing against his prostate, making pleasure zing through him, or the mouth and teeth sucking and biting at his sensitive nipples. He felt overloaded but knew they had barely started, knew his master would fuck him all night until they were both satisfied, until they were so drenched in each other than everything else had been washed away. 

“M-master!” Obi-Wan whined when Qui-Gon pressed a third finger inside of him, feeling the stretch, knowing how much more, how much better it was going to be when it was his cock instead. He was gasping, throwing his head back against the pillow as his master chuckled and bit at his hard nipples, his cock dribbling against his belly. His master sat up a little, fingers not stopping their assault on Obi-Wan’s prostate as he looked down at Obi-Wan’s desperate cock. 

“Oh pet, look at your sweet little cock straining so hard, you want to come, don’t you?”

“Yes master, please,” Obi-Wan begged, his hips thrusting up into nothing. 

His master chuckled again and teased him for how desperate he was, but then lips were closing around his cock, his master swallowing him down as his fingers massaged Obi-Wan’s prostate. Pleasure screamed through him, almost overwhelmed with the feeling of his master stretching and sucking him at the same time and Obi-Wan only lasted a handful of seconds before he was shooting into his master’s mouth. 

Qui-Gon worked him through it, only letting Obi-Wan’s cock slip from his lips when he was soft again, over sensitive and shuddering with it. His master moved back up his body and kissed him deeply, feeding Obi-Wan his own come, the taste of them both mixed together and he drank it down happily as his master praised him. 

“There, now your greedy little hole has relaxed a bit, hasn’t it? I wonder how quickly you’ll get hard again,” his master teased, having the mercy to avoid Obi-Wan’s prostate for a little while, focussing on stretching him wide, spreading him open on those three thick fingers. “Or mauve your next orgasm will be dry, you’re so cute when you come dry, pet.”

“Mmm,” Obi-Wan moaned, trying to protest but unable to form words. His hole felt sloppy, even though he knew he wasn’t ready for his master’s cock yet, that no matter how well stretched and sloppy he felt before, his master’s cock always made him feel tight, stretched to his limit as his master pushing inside of him. 

“Do you want a fourth finger, pet, or do you need a little more time?” His master asked, lifting one of Obi-Wan’s legs up at the knee so that he could push his fingers deeper. 

“‘Nother,” Obi-Wan managed, voice slightly slurred, but eyes open enough to see his master’s smile. 

“Good boy,” his master said, the praise running through Obi-Wan and making him just as hot as his fingers were. 

He whined incoherently as the fourth finger pressed inside of him, body writhing on the bed, trying to get away and get more all at once as he felt like he was short circuiting. His master was praising him, moving his fingers inside Obi-Wan’s hole to open him up, slowly at first, and then further and faster as Obi-Wan’s pliant body responded fast. Obi-Wan jerked, crying out as his master brushed his fingers against his prostate again, barely recovered from how overstimulated he was, but loving every white-hto lace of pained pleasure that shot through his body. 

“Please master,” Obi-Wan whimpered as his master fucked him on his fingers while he pressed kisses to the soft back of Obi-Wan’s knee. “Please give me your cock.”

“Soon,” his master promised, spreading out his fingers as far as they would go, making Obi-Wan crave something bigger. His cock hurt as it tried to get hard again and his master teased him when he wrapped his hand around himself, called him greedy and good interchangeably as he stroked himself on that knife-edge of pleasure and pain until he was hard again. 

When his master drew his fingers free Obi-Wan whined, wrapping his legs around Qui-Gon’s waist and pulling him closer, breath hitching when he felt the thick head of his master’s cock pressing against his well stretched hole. 

The first press of his master’s cock was intense, pressure against his wet hole until finally the muscle gave and opened wide around Qui-Gon’s fat cock. Obi-Wan gasped, hands gripping his master’s arms as he breathed through the burn of the cock entering him, his body being forced wide open, love, relief, desire and passion crashing through their bond until what was coming from who didn’t even matter anymore. 

His master pushed inside of him slowly but unrelenting, forcing Obi-Wan open around him until his eyes were rolling back in his head and he was whimpering freely, pleas of  _ don’t stop _ and  _ more _ and  _ I love you _ falling from his lips without thought, but every one of them true and undeniable. His master was so big that his cock dragged against Obi-Wan’s prostate no matter the angle, and by the time he felt his master’s hips pressing against his ass he was lost all over again, his cock managing to dribble a weak stream of precome against his belly.

“Are you ready, pet?” His master asked, stroking his hands down Obi-Wan’s sides, coming to rest on his navel and pressing down just enough. “I can feel myself, pet, right here. I’m so big inside of you, your perfect little body.”

“Master,” Obi-Wan whined, reaching down so that he could feel it too, his eyes fluttering shut as his master thrust gently inside of him, Obi-Wan able to feel his big cock moving with the hand against his navel as well as his body. 

“I’ve got you,” his master promised, leaning over Obi-Wan and caging him beneath him as he started to roll his hips in a steady circle. 

The first few thrusts of his master’s hips were an electric tease, filling Obi-Wan with please but too gentle and too shallow for how brightly their passion was burning, and Obi-Wan wailed out  _ yes _ when his master finally pulled back and slammed back inside of him hard and deep. 

He was being split open by his master’s thick cock, cradled in his arms so tenderly as his master fucked in and out of his hole at a fast and ferocious pace, the two sensations mixing together into a perfect cocktail of love and passion. His master’s cock reached so much deeper than his fingers, touching Obi-Wan in places no one ever could, ruining him for everyone else - he realised now that he’d been ruined for anyone but his master the very first time he had set foot on the Deimos, no one else would ever compare. 

He was engulfed in his master’s arms, Qui-Gon was so much bigger than him that wrapped in his arms, clutched so close as his master ploughed into his hole Obi-Wan felt entirely enveloped. His master was murmuring to him, broken praise, half-formed sentences and choked off promises, but Obi-Wan understood the meaning of every single one of them;  _ I love you _ . 

“Master, please,” Obi-Wan begged, searching for his master’s lips even though they could barely kiss, sharing reath as his master fucked him roughly and held him tenderly. 

“Yes pet, come again for me, just on my cock,” his master coaxed, driving into him with a little more force his own hips growing erratic. 

Obi-Wan came again with a wail of his master’s name, his cock shooting weakly across his stomach with what little come he had left and his master held him even more tightly, thurst into him half a dozen more times before coming with a growl. Obi-Wan whimpered, the feeling of his master’s hot come filling him more than enough to roll him through every last drop of pleasure from his third climax. 

Obi-Wan went limp against the bed, body sensitive and exhausted, breath hiccuping as his master continued to roll his hips inside of him, pressing deep until ever drop of come had filled Obi-Wan’s hole. His master didn’t pull out when he was finished, staying buried inside of Obi-Wan and making him whimper, he loved it when his master did this, stayed inside him until he got hard and could fuck him again. The feel of his master’s cock thickening inside of him always sending a thrilled shiver down his spine. 

“Do you have one more for me, pet?” his master asked, keeping his cock inside as he curled around Obi-Wan, pressing opened mouthed kisses against Obi-Wan’s neck and jaw. 

“Yes master,” Obi-Wan sighed, his master had made him come more than four times in a night before, but the first two had been so intense, so built up from so long without each other, with all the pent up emotion in their bond and adrenalin in their bodies. But he could come once more for his master. 

“Mmm, good boy. Are you going to get hard again?” His master asked, running a gentle finger down the length of Obi-Wan’s cock until it was massaging small circles against his spent sac. 

“Don’t think so,” Obi-Wan whimpered, wiggling a little only to be held still by his master as he toyed with Obi-Wan’s balls. 

“I’ll make you wet again in the morning, when your little body has recovered, but I want to come in your hole again before I let you sleep.”

“M’kay,” Obi-Wan sighed happily, his limp body struggling with the sensations his master was gliding over his skin, but he liked it anyway. He liked being overloaded with sensations when he was safe in his master’s arms, when he knew he was going to be pampered and made to feel good, no matter what. 

“Such a good pet,” his master breathed. 

They lay together for a little while, his master dropping kisses and drawing patterns against his skin for long moments before Obi-Wan was thrumming with arousal again, and he started to feel his master’s thick cock getting hard in his ass again. 

His master was slower this time, buried so deeply inside of Obi-Wan and reluctant to pull back at all, grinding inside of him and hard against Obi-Wan’s prostate until he felt like he was on fire. They were wrapped up so tightly in each other, Obi-Wan’s arms and legs clinging to his master as Qui-Gon cradled Obi-Wan close with one arm as he rested his weight on the other. His master’s hair was falling around them, feeling as though it cut them off from the world even more than the locked doors did, both of them ensconced in their own little universe that consisted only of each other. 

Obi-Wan’s orgasm was dry and would have been painful were it not for the way he was drowning in so much pleasure that he couldn’t feel anything else. He whimpered and jerked as his master ground against his sweet spot and forced it out of him, murmuring praise against his skin as working Obi-Wan through it before finally coming himself, pumping Obi-Wan full of another load of his come until he felt like he was bursting with it. Qui-Gon continued to hold him close, even after he stilled, neither of them wanting to separate just yet.

“If something happened to you, I wouldn’t survive it. I love you so much, my Obi-Wan,” his master whispered, like a secret, a precious thing between the two of them, and Obi-Wan felt something soft and warm and so full it almost hurt well up in his chest. 

“It’s the same for me, Qui-Gon, you have given me so so much, so much more then I was ever destined to have. All I have to give back to you is my love, and you will have that forever,” Obi-Wan murmured back, they were sharing breath, the moment feeling more intimate than any that had come before it with his master’s softening cock still buried in his hole.

“Then you give me everything,” Qui-Gon said softly, far more softly than anyone but Obi-Wan even knew him capable of.

After a few more minutes, his master pulled out of Obi-Wan’s sloppy hole as carefully as he could, used the force to summon a wet washcloth so that he didn’t have to leave Obi-Wan’s side, and tenderly cleaned them both up, though he let his come continue to drip out of Obi-Wan’s hole, leaving him with a content smile on his face as his master inspected his used hole possessively. 

They lay together sated, his master running his hands over Obi-Wan’s skin, a look of awe in his eyes, mouth slack in a way Darth Avarus’ mouth  _ never _ was. Obi-Wan looked down and saw why, his skin a creamy white again, not a single sign of a fading bruise anywhere on his skin as their bond thumped happily - powerfully - between them.

\--------

Almost a week later and they were both still reluctant to leave each other’s side, though there were unavoidable matters that needed to be seen to. Obi-Wan was lying back against his master’s chest on the comfortable couch in the little living area in their chambers, drawing idle patterns on his master’s arm with the tips of his fingers, tracing the lines of his tattoos. 

“There is still a sith in the brig,” Obi-Wan pointed out, trying not to be distracted by the way Qui-Gon was toying with the little bit of hair they had braided again.

“Sidious is looking for us, I imagine Grievous has told him everything by now. He has seized the compound on Oleserra,” his master replied, looking out the window and into the expanse of space. There was a cluster of stars, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure which system it was, but they reminded him of a cluster of moles on his master’s hip, and it made him smile, despite everything else. 

“What do you plan to do about it?” Qui-Gon had explained to him what had happened, his first beliefs about who had taken him, the fate of Ventress and Opress; Obi-Wan couldn’t say that he wept for any of them. It was certainly no great loss for the galaxy.

“Dooku needs to die. All releasing him would do is give him the time and opportunity to strike back,” Qui-Gon replied.

“I agree. But Sidious won’t like it.”

“Sidious won’t like any of this. I am trying to work out how to stop the old coot from trying to kill me.”

“You’re all he has left,” Obi-Wan pointed out, from what he’d heard about Grievous, the man was more experiment than sith. 

“I know. He needs me, but if I make it clear that I know that, his wounded pride is all the more likely to try and kill me,” Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan lapsed into though, stayed there for a few moments until his master prompted him again. “What is it, pet?”

“Sidious needs you, you’re the one with the networks, who keeps the empire running.”

“Yes?”

“Well, have you ever considered whether or not  _ you  _ need  _ him _ ?” Obi-Wan asked, and his master raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his tea.

“I have.”

“And?”

“And I don’t.”

“We’d be safer, without him. Everyone would.” 

“It would certainly be no great loss for the galaxy.”

“Mm, Emperor Avarus,” Obi-Wan teased, shuffling along the couch and into straddling his master’s lap. “I think that sounds far better.”

“Greedy for power now, my love?”

“No, though I admit that the idea of you with so much is...intoxicating. You’d be a much better emperor than him,” Obi-Wan whispered, his master’s large hands spanning around his waist as he chuckled in his ear.

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes, master,” Obi-Wan replied, and he giggled as his master tumbled him back down into the couch.

Sadly they couldn’t get lost in each other all day, Sidious really was an immediate problem, and Qui-Gon was weighing the merits of returning to Oleserra or inviting Sidious to the ship. 

Qui-Gon had decided to lie and claim that Dooku, Opress and Ventress had let their person squabbles with him cloud their judgement and together they were planning a larger conspiracy against Avarus and the emperor. The claim was that the other sith had hoped to control him by kidnapping Obi-Wan, to turn him against the emperor, and that Qui-Gon had dealt with it himself to avoid their lies clouding the situation. 

It would not be easy to pull off, and his master was losing sleep planting evidence of such a conspiracy, to make it believable there had to be a trail of crumbs. Everyone had a pressure point that Darth Avarus could lean on, to make them sing whatever tune he wanted. The hard part was finding a way to force Dooku to do it as well, Obi-Wan did not envy the chip that had been planted under his skin in the end, seeping mind altering poison into his veins until he was all but a blank slate for Qui-Gon to write over, a puppet that would say whatever Qui-Gon wanted him to.

Either way, his master was working hard, and at a time when they would both much rather be spending every minute of every day lost in each other’s touche. So Obi-Wan had decided to surprise him in the way he knew his master liked best. 

He was draped across their bed in a new set of lingerie, one he had been careful not to let his master see, and was waiting. It was another babydoll, as Obi-Wan had learned they were by far his master’s favourites to find him in, this one open at the front and fluttering around his hips, leaving him fully on display. Made from a delicate silver fabric with were gold inlays around the hem and bodice, matching the gold and silver bracelets and armbands he was wearing, and the silver ring around the base of his cock. 

Finally there was the gold and silver anklet around his right ankle, accentuating the delicate bones there and with a simple charm hanging off it that read  _ pet _ . Obi-Wan had had it commissioned especially, it would fit under his clothes and inside his boots and he had no intention of ever taking it off again. 

He had draped himself over the bed, lying on his side and letting the position emphasis the natural curve of his hips and waist and he bit his lip knowing that when his master turned him over, he would find his favourite plug sat snug in Obi-Wan’s hole, keeping him ready for his master’s cock. 

Beside the bed were two glasses of wine and an assortment of luxurious fruits and sweet treats, perfect, Obi-Wan thought, for an emperor.

He didn’t have to wait very long for his master to find him, and he adopted a coy look as the door started to open. His master paused only for a second when he saw him, and Obi-Wan preened at the instant wave of arousal he felt from their bond. 

“What are you doing, pet?” Avarus asked as he entered the room, one eyebrow raised as his eyes raked hungrily over Obi-Wan’s skin, making it tingle, a shiver rising just from that gaze alone. 

“I was waiting for you, master,” Obi-Wan purred from the bed, biting at his lip as he trailed a hand down the curtain in the babydoll, over his nipples and down his belly until he reached his cock and whimpered, stroking it while his master watching him with dilating eyes. “I wanted to do something nice for you, you work so hard.”

“You look like a gift, pet, all dressed up for me. And what’s this?” His master asked, gripping Obi-Wan’s delicate ankle in his large hand, his mouth moving into that devastating smirk of his when he saw the anklet. 

“I never have to take that one off,” Obi-Wan said, letting go of his cock as his master growled possessively and released his foot so that he could haul Obi-Wan into a deep kiss. 

“Oh pet, you’re all mine aren’t you?” His master said in a dark, heady tone that had Obi-Wan’s cock leaking against his stomach. “Made yourself so pretty for me, all dressed up like royalty.”

“Well, I need to be worthy Emperor Avarus,” Obi-Wan teased, lying back on the bed and spreading his legs, pulling his master with him. 

“It will always be me who must work to be worthy of you,” his master said, his lips hungry and his hands travelling over Obi-Wan’s skin, Obi-Wan’s breath hitching as his master wrapped a hand around his little cock and started stroking him. “And I’m not the emperor yet.”

“N-no,” Obi-Wan whimpered before collecting his voice and nipping at his master’s lip. “But you will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope you liked it, thank you for joining me on the way, I am going to miss this story a lot <3
> 
> I realise I set up a few potential storylines that I didn’t follow up on, such as Ani and emperor avarus, it was intentional to make the world seem larger, but I have also been toying with the idea of a sequel, so you should let me know if you’d be up for reading more...
> 
> Feel free to leave smutty Obi/Avarus prompts for me in the comments, I make no promises but if some grab me I might add them to the series as side stories
> 
> Art Bonanza:
> 
> I have been very very very very very spoiled by beautiful wonderful talented amazing artists while working on this fic, i will never have the words to express my gratitude <3
> 
> The madly talented [Kurtssingh](https://kurtssingh.tumblr.com/) has done a  
> beautiful piece of Avarus reaching for the light to help Obi-Wan, which you can see [here.](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/704322115884548106/755082720807354438/SithAU.jpg)
> 
> The sweet and very very talented and lovely [Q1](https://q1qqq.tumblr.com/post/626963771486765056/inspired-by-littlelynns-amazing-fic-broken-out) drew the boys back to back which you can find [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/745938584300683314/745948677985796137/image0.png) and [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/745938584300683314/745950401706328324/image0.png)
> 
> There is also a beeeaauuuttiful piece of art from ColdishCase that you can find in chapter 14, [a sfw version of here on tumblr ](https://coldishcase.tumblr.com/post/630909832152678400/obi-wan-in-a-pink-babydoll-from-chapter-14-of) and the nsfw version on their [patreon! ](https://www.patreon.com/posts/42305860)
> 
> There is also one by the lovely midnight, which is technically for On Display but it’s Avarus and Obi and porny goodness so I wouldn’t want anyone to miss it, you can see it [here ](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/742023465422553139/753259364898439350/image0.jpg), and find midnight [here ](https://midnightdelirium.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> and one final thank you from me: THANK YOU <3


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